


Fern McJones and the Shiny Rock

by Nosebleedy99



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 65,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29045217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nosebleedy99/pseuds/Nosebleedy99
Summary: Small seemingly insignificant coincidences and changes can create massive differences down the line.Harry Potter is never found and raised by the Dursleys as a series of small events cause both him and others to have larger changes in their lives, after the Tragedy at Godric's Hollow.Actually Harry Potter doesn't become Harry Potter at all. Now he becomes Fern McJones.
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 11
Kudos: 21





	1. Prologue; Chaos Intervenes

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever work, Feedback is appreciated!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever work, Feedback is appreciated!  
> I will be using hybrid referencing from the books, movies, wikis and non canon sources.

Fate creaks as she wobbles a little back and forth, her many weights and ties shifting and sliding to her rhythmic leaning

“You are being ridiculous!” She snaps as her scales tilt and even out again. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Sense?! I'm not making sense?!” Destiny's form flows and broils, rippling in swells and torrents like a boiling sea of ethereal water “What do you call what your doing then? Dollars?!”

Nearby the every cycling argument, Magic is lying on the ground, her colours of the mind turning rhythmically as if in some obscure tantrum. Love and Hate overlook her, polar opposites, one of thronging delightful flesh and the other of creaking acidic decay, and yet they both wear the same bemused and annoyed expression.

A little further back to the left, Order exists as a static form, frozen in pure grey harmony, he turns and huffs to Space and Time, standing all around him and also always several minutes in the future.

“This whole thing is getting out of hand.” He mutters in a perfect even tone.

Chaos enters, being unusually quiet, which makes sense as she is always seen and heard so being quiet is unexpected. She skitters along on her infinite appendages, one after another growing and fading in rapid succession, as she evades over to the Well of Stories. She swiftly grows a long antennae, reaching in to the cavernous maw of light and language, shifting for one concept in particular, a story already completed that she will make anew. She plucks out a copy of the very beginning and eyes it from all angels triumphantly. Laughing manically, in a way no one can hear, she careens away to treasure her prize.

Who knows how long it will take for Order or the others to notice. She has time to make a little change.

\---

Red Lacewing

A gentle woman sits in a well worn armchair by the bay window of her small, homey cottage, her fiery auburn hair cascading around her face as she smiles down at the small baby boy bundled in her arms. Big green eyes stare up at her as she coos to him, bouncing a little and electing a gleeful little burble as he reaches his tiny hands up at her. His attention is distracted and he starts to gurgle at the window instead, drawing her own attention to a red butterfly fluttering outside, tapping against the glass rhythmically. It wasn't a type of butterfly she had see around before, and it was startling, wings a most vibrant eye catching scarlet like the colour itself was almost bleeding through the dewy morning glass. She picks up her baby to get a closer look, her son still gurgling happily as she watches the hypnotizing dance of glittering red.

She jolts back in surprise as a blur of black slams into the window with a disturbing thwack, barley missing the red butterfly, which quickly dances away from the danger. Gathering her sense, she leans to look out the window again. A large black crow flops around on the ground, cawing in aggravation as it tries to right itself, although one of it's wing is twisted at an awkward and broken angle. She watches it as it flounders about painfully and swiftly looks to put her son down, when he suddenly makes a happy cooing noise and a green glow rises around him, before dissipating in an instant. She startles and looks back out the window to see the crow flapping up to the fence with a newly mended wing, and brooding demeanour, before hopping away into the morning air. She bounces the boy and coos excitedly, beaming at him.

“James!” She shouts over her shoulder, “James come quick!”

James speeds down the awkward cottage steps with a flurry of movement, and he slides to a stop in front of her, his brown hair wild and glasses skewed.

“Lily! Wha-what happened? Is everything ok!?”

“Harry did magic!”

His slightly concerned look melts into a grin of wild glee “W-He did!”

She motions outside, with her elbows, as her arms are still full of her laughing little Harry, “He healed the wing of a crow. Through the window no less!”

James bounds up to her and carefully scoops the boy out of her arms, chatting happily at him. Lily laughs at the warm display, sighing in the glow of it all. She glances back outside and spies the red butterfly again, sunning itself lazily on the window pane.

Something slots into place. I thought, not really forgotten, a small sliver of something unsaid, carefully unfolds in her mind. Lily's smile fades a little and she looks back to James.

“Honey, can you put Harry down for his nap? I have to write a letter.”

He looks up at her, “Hm? Of course babe. Who to? Do you need the owl?”

“No, I'll send it by Muggle post. Non-magical means will be untraceable. Just an old friend.” She hums, a little despondent.

James nods, turning a little serious, “Is it-”

“James,” She says abruptly. “It'll be untraceable. Trust me.”

James thinks, furrowing his brow a little, before sighing. “I know, I do, I-” He glances at the butterfly, and sighs, “Tell him I'm sorry.”

She quickly pulls out a pen, spiral notebook and envelope, from the beige kitchen cupboard, “I will, but” she points at him commandingly, “One day, you will say it in person. One day mister.”

He nods shoulders, bobbing in mischievous resignation “Well, I mean yea.” Harry makes a fussy noise. “Oop, looks like someone is getting grumpy. Oh Lily?”

She looks back at him as she places her items down on the short coffee table “Ye-” She is cut off by James leaning forward and pressing a quick warm kiss to her lips.

“I love you” He hums.

She hums back “I love you too.”

James dances away, bouncing Harry in his arms and humming happily as Lily settles down to write, pen in hand and heart on her sleeve.

\---

The car is a convertible, painted glossy bright red and a licence plate branded with the word Caravan. It roars down the high way with speed and accuracy of a force of nature, careening and swerving between cars as it thrills ahead. The car's mad dash slows little as the other cars get a little closer together as the flow of traffic suddenly tapers off and quickly grinds to a standstill. Up ahead, past a throng of bumper to bumper cars, a mail truck has overturned on the highway, spilling packages and letters all over the hot afternoon pavement in a flood of bureaucratic nightmares. The convertible shifts and carefully reverses itself onto the highway shoulder, spinning itself around and speeding over the divider back on the open highway again, now moving in the opposite direction.

\---

Checkered White

She sweeps through the towering elegant halls of her manor home, glancing through the open doors as she passes. She huffs, tucking a stray blond hair from her elaborate bun behind her ear and picks up her pace a little, passing through another door into the dining room, she looks around and frowns.

_He spends all day dramatically draping himself on every flat surface, but now that I'm looking for him, he's vanished. Typical._

She pauses, and stares at the tall Gothic windows, looking out at the yard, misty with the evening air as albino peacocks mill about, pecking the ground for worms.

Yesterday she was staring out the same window, overlooking the estate, being the queen of her small corner of perfection, while the peacocks were being proud, dumb birds. She watched as Eros, the largest of the peacocks and most well loved of the birds by her husband, as it rose its head to eye a white butterfly as it fluttered down over the yard, it's wings glinting and glowing in the sunlight like a rare jewel. As it landed on a nearby plant, batting it's wings gently, Eros creeped close, and snapping out its elegant neck, the butterfly vanished in a flash of beaks. There was a pause where Eros bobbed and shook his head before he began to shudder and hack, flapping and writhing desperately. She watched on in blank worry, the reality of what she was witnessing sinking into her. She thought to get help, but by the time the thought occurred, the bird had flopped over, and wasn't moving anymore. From Eros mouth, a white butterfly crawled free, flopping and sunning its wings awkwardly as it slowly righted itself and uneasily fluttered to freedom. She reminisces that it was poetic, if only Lucius took it better.

_He will dramatically resurface before dinner, as he always does._

She tears here eyes away from the window and gives up her search for now. She strides down the hall, her quick snappy steps echoing along the marble until finally reaching the nursery, where she quiets her stride and carefully opens the door.

She pauses upon entering, seeing her husband hovering by the cradle, his long unfairly beautiful platinum hair, hanging gracefully over his shoulder as he stares down over the white wood bars. He doesn't look up to acknowledge her and she steps closer, looking him over carefully.

“Lucius? What wrong?”

He finally looks up, his cold blues eyes flickering over to her and then quickly back down to their son, snuggled under a fluffy white blanket and sleeping soundly.

“Oh, Narcissa, nothing, nothings wrong, everything is fine...” He sounds strangely despondent.

“You're not yourself.” She stands beside him, scanning him carefully. She was immensely used to the proud posturing and cold front, the strange absent look he wears now makes her increasingly wary.

She continues “Is everything alright with the Dark Lord-”

“I raised Eros myself.” She blinks at his blunt non-sequitur.

“I know. You've told me before.”

“Did I tell you father gave him to me because he was small and sickly?”

“...You did not.”

He sighs quietly. “He expected the bird to die so he could punish me for failing.”

“Yet the bird lived. And lived a long happy life in your care.”

“Until it choked to death on a butterfly.”

She watches him. _What does he want me to say? For once, I can't really read him..._

He speaks up again turning to look at her, his face a usual blank slate, but his eyes seemed wide and uneasy. “I am thinking...”

“A dangerous pass time. What are you thinking?”

“Am I like my father?”

Narcissa actually shakes her head to recover from the sudden turn of conversation. “I-I'm sorry?”

He repeats the question talking fast and desperate. “Am I like my father?! I'm I destined to be just like him; cruel, vicious, heavy hands and cold eyes, look at me!” Lucius snaps the last line startling Narcissa as he steps towards her, waving his snake cane around in a slightly wild manner, as he addresses her and himself. “I look like him! How he looked at my age, when I was born, I-I'm going to be just like him, I shouldn't even be near my own son-” He's suddenly talking louder his voice inching up in strange anger.

“Lucius!” She hisses slapping her hand over his mouth.

There is a moment of silence only interrupted by the soft sound of snuffling from the crib. The shifting quiets and she carefully moves her hand, a smirk gracing her lips.

“If your mother did that, your father would have killed her.” Lucius stares at her, eyes softening, and she continues, “I never even spoke to your father while he was alive, and he ignored me like I was a fancy but unwanted sofa.” She scoffs softly. “He was perfect noble and he was the worst kind of bastard. You're not him Lucius. You have the freedom to not be him.”

He unconsciously rubs his right fore arm, “Do I?”

She tracks his movement, and feels she's reading his mind again. “You have to make the decision yourself. Not me.” She says softly, “But I won't let you destroy yourself or this family.” There is no change in her voice, but her words carry finality to them.

He nods a little, absorbing her words, before motioning to the crib, “Could you, uh, could you help me pick him up?” His voice rises a little when finishes the sentence, motioning at the crib again.

Narcissa blinks at him, “You...want to hold Draco?”

Lucius sighs in slightly concealed aggravation, “I'm making a decision, I'm making a difference in my life, help me.”

Narcissa nods and steps past him towards the crib “Ok, goodness relax, he is asleep so we need to be gentle, arms like this,” She folds her arms together, close to her chest, “and use this hand to support his head, yes.” She watches him carefully.

Lucius nods, face etched in concentration as he mimics her motions. She smiles fondly at his concentration, before quickly and carefully scooping Draco out of his crib, unconsciously pulling his small fragile and warm body close to her chest, looking down at her little treasure. She looks up at Lucius who is waiting, arms still positioned and eyes filled with icy worry not normal for him. She ever so carefully deposits the bundle in his arms, positioning his hands just so and slowly taking her hands away. Lucius lets out a long breath, shoulders sagging a little, as he shifts his arms to hold Draco closer. His whole presence softens, easing a little with warmth not unlike the sun coming out after a snow storm.

“He's heavier than he looks...” He remarks off hand.

“I'll take him back if he wakes up, you won't want him to accidentally sick on you nice work clothes.” She hums easily.

He hesitates, “No. No it's ok, I have other outfits, I would like to hold him while he is awake as well.” He looks up at her sharply, “I would like to feed him too, If you would show me. And how does he play? Does he talk yet-”

“He's not old enough to do anything but babble, and of course if you're here, I will gladly teach you, the house elves could help as well,” She tuts at him “Don't make that face, they know what they are doing.”

Lucius stops rolling his eyes and wonders, “Do you think the Dark Lord would give me time off? For my son?”

Narcissa stares at him, “Honestly? No, I don't think so.”

Lucius nods, resigned and mutters something. Nacrissa swears it sounds like “Then what am I doing it all for?” but before she can ask, he suddenly winces, holding Draco a little closer, before suddenly handing him to her.

“The mark?” She says automatically.

Lucius nods, gripping his forearm, “He calls. I will be late, don't stay up for me.” He speaks dismissively, face and aura frosty again. He pauses before he leaves and looks at Narcissa, eyes unreadable, “Thank you, love.”

She nods back to him cool and collected, “Come back alive, Darling.”

He sweeps out the door, gone in a flash of silver, and Narcissa turns back to Draco smoothing his nearly pure white tufts of hair, as he sleepily blinks awake with a yawn.

She hums, pleased, “Hello little Dragon, you just missed him but, he'll be back.”

\---

Black Swollowtail

Regulus was always an observer.

He was observer with his older brother. Regulus sat in his room, listening to the sounds echoing off the darkened walls of his home, screaming at each other, sounds of shattering glass, cries of pain and the tense silences that followed. Once he was sure his parents were away, he would slip from his room and downstairs, to where he would inevitably find Sirius, curled up in corner of the dining area and looking smaller than he was, with angry red lacerations on his arms, and tangled black hair obscuring his face from the orange glow of the fireplace.

“Go away Regulus.” He would groan.

Regulus would ignore him, pulling out the healing balm he had stolen from the parents bathroom, and settling beside him, to listen if just for a little while, to whatever he had to say, or to the brooding silence he chose to have instead.

He was an observer with the closest thing he could call a friend. He would wait around the corner, leaning against the cool grey stone walls, listening to the angry hissed slander and biting comments, spells tossed back and forth, until the cruel laughter would die down and the winners would scamper away. Once he was certain the commotion was over, he would turn the corner and carefully approach Severus Snape, a gangly shallow faced teenaged boy, a year older than him, with stringy black hair.

“Here to laugh as well?” He would hiss at him, curling back like an injured feral animal.

Regulus would stare up at him blankly, until he was convinced he meant no ill will and would allow him close enough to look over the damage his brother and motley crew had inflicted this time; burns, hexes, cuts, bruising, festering wounds, poisons, choking, humiliation, bleeding, he thought he had seen pretty much everything back then.

He was an observer when the person he really admired was lost. Lucius Malfoy was wearing a proper cool smile and was sickly pale when he got his dark mark, his father, an imposing deathlike figure standing right by his shoulder, and the Dark Lord caressing his forearm and whispering sweet platitudes. He waited to approach until Lucius was alone, sinking down with his back to the closed study door and a look on his face like he might throw up at any moment, as he traced his shaking fingers along his new brand, a skull with a snake coming out of it's mouth.

“Who are you?” he snapped when he noticed Regulus, giving a curious guarded stare.

Regulus approached casually and held out a bottle of expensive whisky he brought, motioning to the nearby empty sitting room. He would then spend countless nights after that one the same way, lending an ear as the man drowned his sorrows and drank himself sick.

Regulus observed the beginning of the end.

“I will kill the child. In a matter of nights, I will find where he is hidden, and kill him.”

He felt his own apprehension as the Dark Lord, a charming, intelligent beacon of the ideals they all believed in, uttered something that made him question everything. His apprehension was reflected in Lord Malfoy as his eyes grew hard and distant while his cool smile remained, and in Severus Snape's hands as he clenched them into fists and his mind raced behind his dead eyes.

Regulus observed the worst. Leaning up against the window sill, handsome features of a leader he followed through thick and thin and the face of a true monster, as he said those words to him with a thin cruel smile that seemed to split his face like a mockery of pleasure, while Regulus held his beloved house elf, Kreacher close against his body, silently begging his breathing to return to normal.

“Horcuxes, my loyal servant. I Will Live, Forever.”

Regulus decided he could no longer just observe. It was time for him to act.

But why would acting ever be easy?

Regulus is standing on a crystal island in the centre of a yawning crystal cave, having fished the cursed Salazar Slytherin Locket from black waters infused with dark energy. He attempts to get water from the surrounding cave lake to sooth his burning throat and throbbing head, only for twisted husks to crawl forth from the murky waters, the moment he touches the surface. Not hundreds, but thousands of them, reaching to him with rotting greying skin; Inferni, the most cursed kind of necromancy. He jerks back, and manages to cough enough to feel his voice again, he shouts to Kreacher, the older house elf watching nearby in apt horror.

“Kreacher! Get out of here!” His voice is raw like sandpaper, damn that cursed water.

Kreacher's wrinkled face twists in fear. “M-Master-”

Regulus cast a burst of fire from the end of his wand, placating the Inferni close, but more come from just behind them, more replacing ones pushed back, swarming forward in a sea of terror.

He snaps back, throat burning, “Go! That's an order!”

Kreacher has to comply, and with tears in his button eyes, he vanishes with a cracking noise that shakes the cave's crystal with a ringing sound.

Regulus diverts his attention back to the ever closer growing imprisonment of reaching arms and clawing hands. He tries to summon more power into his wand, but can only summon a shallow puff of orange flame, quickly swallowed as more haunting creatures reach towards him. He stumbles, back bumping against the pedestal as he tries to steady himself. He picked a good time to have his life flash before his eyes.

_At least I did one god act before it all ends. Forgive me everyone._

As he feels the last of his energy start to leave him, the cursed shambling horrors growing closer, his eyes are drawn to a glint in the yawning cave's gloom. A black butterfly, flutters down in the dim bluish fire of the caves magical torches, dancing in a hypnotizing haunting way as it coasts down and lands ever so gently on the surface of the crystal lake, disrupting it's mirror quiet visage, casting elegant ripples around it.

One moment, thousands of Inferni crowded him, reaching to drag him down into a watery grave and then suddenly he was very much alone, every last mindless zombie thronging after the single black butterfly that rests on the water's veneer. He watches in absolute bafflement as the shambling hoard dives desperately after the little fluttery insect, which quickly hops upwards and away, slipping through their imprecise twisted fingers and skimming down to the water's surface again, making more graceful ripples, before again swooping away out of harms reach, time and time again. Regulus snaps out of his wistful bewilderment, and quickly stumbles to the chained boat on the islands shore, pushing it to take him away and back to the safety from where he came.

His journey out of the cave is a blur of rushed, jittery movement as he pushes himself forward until he tastes the salty sea air and has the wherewithal to apperate.

He feels the telltale pull of his navel and the unpleasant twisting and squeezing along with it, but doesn't fear any accidents, as he knows exactly where he is going, landing seconds later in a particular dank back alleyway, close to Sirius' muggle apartment. He quickly leans against the wall and swallows the bile threatening to rise in his throat, as he starts to slide along the cracked bricks, keeping his wits about him as he nears the corner that would lead right to the door inside.

 _I just need him to listen to me..._ Regulus' thoughts are disrupted by a commotion and he ducks by the wall listening.

He doesn't recognize the shaky pained voice. “P-Padfoot! Please! I-I had no choice! H-He would have k-k-killed me!”

“Then you should have died!” That voice was definitely Sirius, gruff and hardy, “How could you do this! They trusted you! I trusted you...” He hears a break of emotion in Sirius' voice, a crack like a heart breaking.

“P-Please. D-Don't let the Aurors find us! I-I can make it up to y-y-you!” The other voice really is familiar.

There is a pause before Sirius speaks again, and Regulus peaks around the corner. “Oh, your going to get what's coming to you, Rat.”

Regulus is watching as his brother, wild black hair, tall and lean muscle, as he has a shorter, rotund man with sandy blond hair pinned against the alley wall.

“S-Siruis!” The pinned man sputters, reaching in his pocket for something, and Regulus realizes it's Peter Pettigrew.

Sirius hisses, like he is about to yell something, when Pettigrew draw his wand and taps it against the wall.

“Bombardia!” Pettigrew yelps.

The wall by him explodes in a rain of stone debris, Sirius dropping him and stumbling back, dropping his wand in the commotion. Judging by the screams Regulus is now hearing, people were injured in the blast. Sirius dives for his wand, and Pettigrew strikes again.

“Tumultus!”

A cheering charm? Sirius in turn tries to steady himself to cast a spell and starts laughing. Not just any laugh, of course, but the unfortunate Black family signature laugh; wild, high and bonechilling. Regulus watches in shock as Sirius still manages to fire off a wild spell despite cackling like a lunatic, and then in even further surprise as Pettigrew mutters a curse to himself, slicing off one of his fingers with a quick sickening hiss, before he shrinks away, becoming small and furry, as he fully transforms into a rat, and dives into the nearby sewer grate.

Sirius swears and fires another volatile spell, all the while trying to prevent himself from laughing, but another wild outburst of pained and nerve wracking convulsions spill forth and a pair of Aurors rush into the alleyway, cloaks billowing around them. Sirius is disarmed by the taller one, his wand clattering to the ground and sliding towards where Regulus is still concealed, as he barks at them to try and explain himself, only to keel over with more hysterical hyperactive laughing.

Regulus decides to act again. He scoops up and pockets Sirius' wand, gliding out of the shadows he silently fires off two spells, sending the unaware Aurors into fits of itching and screaming as they try to rid themselves of invisible insects. He dashes forward, quickly grabbing the still shaking and unsteady Sirius around the waist, before apperating, again.

He is sure where he is going, at least he is when he feels the pull on his navel and the horrible uncomfortable noodling sensation, but after he lands he is less sure. He is standing in the dusty streets off a dead end town, a place abandon and dilapidated with neglect and time, air heavy with a stagnate air and chilled weather. He leans heavily on his brother who still shudders in unhinged chuckling, his eyes drawing up to the building looming in front of them, the only shabby looking crooked house with lights on inside.

_Oh god, he is going to kill me._

He is distracted by Sirius gaining his wits enough grab him around the collar of his cloak and glare at him with burning fiery eyes.

“Where, uhah, where, huuh, where are we?!”

_Doing the right thing is so much harder than it looks._

Instead of speaking, he shoves Sirius back, and then immediately throws up. It's just water, he hadn't eaten anything that day, but he was hoping to avoid nausea. He crouches down, clutching his head as a dizzying sensation slams into him and he nearly throws up again.

“wuhhah, Regulus what the hahahhhaa” Sirius collapses into another fit on uncontrollably giggles.

Regulus stays crouched as he tries to summon how to get Sirius to cooperate with him. He had a plan before but he can't remember it at all. He gets a better idea.

He speaks but his voice sounds like static and his throat is almost numb with pain “I saw you and Pettigrew! I want to help!”

He manages to look up to see that despite still chortling, Sirius has a wild dangerous look in his eyes.

He tries to get up, but can't manage, his voice faint and strained, “I'm the only one who can-”

They are interrupted by the door to the house they are in front of slamming open with enough force to echo down the streets and send all nearby stray animals fleeing.

Regulus looks up at Severus Snape standing on the doorstep, black cloak half open and dishevelled, sunken eyes red rimmed, black hair frayed like crazy, and wearing a twisted sneer on his face that could kill a lesser man.

“What the Hell!?” He barks at them voice a brutal growl.

Sirius stops laughing enough to speak again, “Snivillus!? I huhuah, I refuse-”

Snape is also speaking, fast and vicious as he storms towards them, wand drawn, “I swear to god I should-”

Regulus stops clutching his head from his still crouched position and quickly waves his wand, a burst of bright sparks erupting from its tip with an ear-piercing shriek. Both the other men startle and fall silent.

Regulus manages to force his voice back into working again. “Sirius was framed by Pettigrew! Snape is working with Dumbledore! There is more-”

He throws up again. The mucus on the cobblestone looks red, and Regulus realizes he must have thrown up blood.

Severus reacts first, brushing past Sirius and quickly grabbing Regulus firmly by the shoulders to prevent him from keeling over. Regulus still sinks a little and begins to cough violently. Through the pain and pounding in his head he hears Severus yelling at Sirius.

“Don't just stand there laughing you imbecile, help me get him inside!”

Regulus sags further into Sirius grip as he and Severus quickly and roughly drag him up the steps of Severus' home and deposit him inside on the closest dusty worn couch. His head is swimming and he forces himself to try and sit up with a soft groan, if only to get his face out of the awful musty cushions.

He takes stock of the cramped small interior, a joint living room, dining area and kitchen with unkempt mismatched furniture, crumbling fireplace and uneven bookshelf walls, the home literally overflowing with books of all kinds and ages, on every flat or solid surface. He assumes the books now scattered at his feet were on the couch before he was.

He hears Severus barking orders, “...right back, DO NOT TOUCH ANYTHING!”

There is a short period of tense but blessed silence, broken by Sirius still giggling like a cretin, pacing near the now locked front door like a nervous guard dog, and Severus clinking about in the hidden cellar compartment in the book shelf behind the couch.

_I can work with this._

The thought barely finishes crossing his mind before the unblocked fire place roars to life with a vibrant green, and an awfully familiar platinum blond strides through.

“Severus!” Lucius is speaking before he even crosses the threshold. “I came as fast as I could-” He stops dead in his tracks as he takes in the no doubt concerning looking situation.

In the next few seconds Regulus tries and fails to get up off the couch, Snape hits his head on something and swears loudly, Lucius pulls out his wand, and he doesn't even get a syllable out before Sirius full body tackles him into the nearby arm chair. Regulus finally succeeds in getting up and casts the first spells he can think of.

“Sed Et Baculus!”

This quickly pulls Sirius away and glues him to the dusty hardwood floor, while sticking Lucius to the worn blue armchair he was thrown into. Regulus picks up Lucius' wand and tries to talk again, waving unsteadily at them as he sways where he stands.

“STOP! Just, both of you, please, I-” He sinks back to the couch as he throat seizes painfully.

Severus reappears from the cellar with a murky red potion vial, and some unbranded wine bottle, taking in the scene before him and hissing in annoyance. He storms over and pushes the potion bottle in Regulus hand.

“Drink this, all of it.” He snaps his fingers at him, the lid on the bottle popping open, “It'll ease the pain and mend the burning but I will need to give you a full check up. You two,” He swiftly uncorks the bottle, pouring three shots of a dark golden liquid into the glasses he summoned, before slamming the bottle down by the unopened mail on the table. He picks up and forcefully hands the glasses to Sirius and Lucius, slamming the contents of his own glass back with a sharp grimace, “It's alcohol. Drink. I want nothing but silence for the next minute, starting NOW.”

Regulus did not need to be told twice. He knocks back the potion he was given, hissing in surprise at the hot tingling in his chest, and the taste of what he can only describe as rotten meat on his tongue, but he bears it. He soon feels a soothing sensation in his throat and the warmth in his core, as the pounding in his head ceases a little and his equilibrium returns. He focuses enough to see Severus finish his second drink, while Lucius hesitantly swigs his and Sirius struggles to drink while laying down and still half laughing.

After almost exactly a minute of silence, heavy laden with thick uneasy pressure, Severus speaks up.

“The Dark Lord is dead.” He drawls, clearly and calmly like speaking about out of season rainy weather.

Sirius squirms from his spot stuck to the ground and spits back, “Lily and James are dead too!”

Lucius looks up from his drink, face easily blank and smooth “Did the boy live? The baby?”

Sirius glares at him “Wouldn't you like to know!”

“He Lives.” Severus still spoke with the same calm tone, but his voice shook a little, fainter and uneven. “Dumbledore has the child. The boy killed the Dark Lord.”

Sirius hisses something obscene, writhing a little and Regulus finally gets his voice back,

“The Dark Lord is not really dead.” His timber is unsteady, but smoother than before so he continues, “He has Horcruxes.” Before the others can speak, he is up on his feet, suddenly more awake and aware, he begins pacing, despite the lack of floor space. “He tore out pieces of his soul and put them in objects. I have one, I just got it.” He motions to Lucius and Severus. “You've noticed it, of course, the disjointed logic, the cruel smiles, torturing his followers, even us who were considered his closest, it seemed like suddenly all his plans became nothing but sadistic chaos...” Lucius and Severus exchange wayward looks and Regulus rambles on in an elegant way, “It's no accident. He has been slowly ripping his soul up, losing his mind in the process. He probably hasn't been human since before we all joined....” Regulus trails off and closes his eyes, soaking in the mess that his life has become. “We need to find and destroy them or he will come back, and he will be so much worse...”

After a beat of silence, Lucius suddenly speaks up, “We...should not let him come back.”

Regulus looks at him in feint surprise, mirrored by Sirius, but not by Severus, who responds with, “I completely agree.”

Regulus nods, relieved, and Sirius finally un-sticks himself from the floor by sheer willpower, to get up and snap at them, no longer laughing, “What are you all talking about?! Last I checked you,” points at Regulus “ are a goody two shoes blood supremacist like mom and dad always wanted, with no one you care about outside of that crotchety old house elf,” Regulus frowns at Sirius' dismissal of Kreacher, but he plows on, pointing at Lucius, “ You are the blood purity poster child of cruelty and prejudice and were Voldemort's right hand.” Lucius doesn't wince when Sirius uses the Dark Lords name, he doesn't even try to protest as Siruis turns on Severus. "and YOU,” He points accusingly, as Severus decides to ignore him in exchange for going through his unopened mail, “You are the worst. A snivelling, cowardly snake, who can't keep his fat nose to himself because of his inferiority. You are a hateful bastard that takes childish antics and turns them to terrorism, and you are the worst kind of scum.” Severus doesn't respond, staring down at his letters with a unreadable gaze. “ I don't trust this at all.” Sirius huffs, worked up and out of breath, eyes burning with wild fiery energy.

Regulus honestly expected Severus to respond, but instead Lucius speaks up first. Finally unstuck from the arm chair, he gets up gracefully and sidles towards Sirius slowly, still speaking in his usual smooth and smarmy timber, “You are an idiot.” He smirks easily, “While you are not wrong about my own beliefs, I will stand by that mudbloods and halfborns are a drain on our society, you got some other things incorrect.” He motions to Regulus and Severus, casually, “We all had our reasons to follow the Dark Lord, for me it helped my goals in cleaning up our sick world, for Regulus it was to support my cause, for Severus he was granted money and resources to research where he would normally be turned away for his house and upbringing.” Lucius remains cold, but Regulus recognizes a edge of regret in is words, “It was hard, to ever doubt...him, he was magnetic and charismatic, words that made you believe anything, he was a powerful leader like no other. We didn't realize what we were all standing in before it was too late.” His gaze flashes coldly as he steps closer and looks directly in Sirius' eyes, who stands his ground, frowning. “I have a son you know. You would if you ever talked to your cousin Narcissa, or even your own brother. My son, he's barely a year old...I don't want him to live in a world with a monster like the Dark Lord.”

He could tell Sirius wasn't totally convinced, his eyes narrowing and jaw set. Regulus again expects Severus to jump in, but finds himself filling the sudden empty space, sparing a glance in Severus direction, where he was holding a strange envelope with a wide eyed unsettled look on him.

“Sirius what do you want us to do? Do you want me to take Veritaserum to pr-” Regulus cut himself off, abandoning the conversation to sweep carefully over to Severus, who had opened the letter and is now silently reading something off unfamiliar lined paper, his grip tight and his eyes showing despair Regulus did not know he could witness, “Severus, are you alright?”

Severus responds by burying his face into the papers he's reading with a heart wrenching whimper, his long hair pooling on the table and his shoulders shaking in distress. Regulus exchanges a wordless look with Lucius who watches on in blank confusion, as Severus quietly un-clenches the letter from his grip and instead shakily threads his fingers into his mussed hair, his head now resting on the wooden table top, before he lets out a nearly silently and terrible pained sob. Sirius dashes forward, snatching the crinkled letter off the table triumphantly before Regulus can stop him.

Sirius cackles, “What's this Snivillus? A love letter?”

Lucius' eyes flash furiously and he hisses a protest, but Regulus stops him with a hand, watching Sirius carefully as he reads the first few lines. His eyes go wide, his mad smile fading into shocked horror. Tension remains in the air, Severus still face down on the table silently weeping, as Sirius slowly sits down in the chair opposite, eyes glued to the page as horror turns to deep soul crushing regret, a faint broken cry spilling from him as he slaps the letter down on the table and begins to frantically mutter to himself, hot angry tears spilling forth from him.

“I-It's my fault! Oh god its all my fault?! I swear I didn't mean to let this happen, I should have been there-” He is speaking in an almost mad, desperate fashion of a man traumatically haunted.

Lucius looks at Regulus worriedly, “W-what exactly is going on?”

His voice goes a little higher at the end, a common tic he acquires when he is out of the loop. Regulus responds by carefully snapping up the fallen note and holding it to the light so they can both read the beautiful and precise handwriting.

_Severus. I'm sorry. I want you to know that I have forgiven you for everything, I had years ago. We both did things that we regret and I should have tried to work it out. I should have made an effort to talk to you, to sort through what was happening to us, and I've been such a coward. I told myself you made your choice, that it was too late, but I should have tried anyway. I am as guilty in driving you away as James and Sirius are. I know now the world is not as black and white as I saw it back then, and I should have sought you out sooner. I hope you can forgive me._

_I hope you can forgive them. James has apologized, but I refuse to let him get away with just saying it to me, I won't rest until he says it to you, face to face. I know what Sirius did, and I will not forgive him until he recognizes what he did was horrible, dangerous and totally unwarranted. I won't be able to forgive him until he apologies to you as well. Remus is horribly regretful about it, but he never says those exact words. Peter doesn't seem to know he's done anything wrong. I apologies on his behalf, for now._

_Perhaps apologies are not enough, but I really want to start over. Not to forget about it all, there is too much that has happened to just erase our pasts, but I want to reach out at least, to let you know I'm still here, and I want us to be friends again. I know it seems like maybe it's too late, but I don't believe that. You always said I was a fool for being so hopeful, but I disagree. I think we need all the help we can get these days. I can't give you my current address, just send any letter you write in this same envelope, through Muggle post and it'll reach me. Perhaps I'll tell you the very strange series of spells I used to achieve such an effect when we meet again, in person. I'll introduce you to little Harry as well, but for now, please just write back. Please._

_I've never told you, but you are a good man, and I've always believed in you. Always._

_Lily._

Regulus carefully folds the letter closed and creases it into a neat square. He mutters to himself looking at Lucius who is levelling a concerned frown at the table, still hosting Severus and Sirius both trapped in horrible looping anguish. Regulus steps forward, picking up one of the stray heavy tomes off the bookshelf, before slamming it against the table top with all his might.

Severus and Sirius both jump up at the house shaking slam and stare at Regulus incredulously.

“We do NOT have time for this.” Regulus spits, leaning against the table, “By all means, grieve, Lily was a wonderful witch and the quashed redemption is horrible, not a word Lucius,” Regulus snaps at him as he opens his mouth to say something unwarranted, “but we have a very delicate and dangerous job to work on and all the arguing and angst is getting us nowhere.”

Lucius snaps at him, “I was going to AGREE with you Regulus,” He sweeps up beside him, “I was never” He pauses with a grimace, “partial to Mrs Evens,” He shakes his head and continues, “but I feel regret for this tragedy as well, and the only way to prevent any further tragedies is to find the...uh...”

“Horcruxes.” Regulus amends, “I don't know how many there are, only that he made more than one.”

Severus seems to calm significantly, roughly wiping the tears off his shallow cheeks he takes a deep fortifying breath. “He wouldn't let just any object hold his soul,” He hums, voice shaken but determined, “They will be things that mean something to him.”

Sirius tosses his hair out of is face and drums his fingers the table, focusing, “I don't know how I can help, but...” He shifts and roughly drags his hands through his hair, “Has he given any objects to you guys? I can't imagine he would leave them unattended, he probably put them somewhere safe but underplayed. He trusted you three right?”

“Not Quiet.” Lucius sighs, “He may not have questioned our loyalty but we were only trusted because we were useful to him, more than most. Even then I'm surprised he never told me or Severus about the Horcruxes. I don't know if he told anyone actually. He was adamant he would live forever, maybe he told Bell-” Lucius pauses as his cool mask exchanges for a look of dread. “Oh god.”

Sirius stares at him, “Wha-”

“I will be right back!” Lucius yells while sprinting towards the fire place, Sirius hot on his heels.

“Wait a second!” Sirius stops him by the couch, “How do we-”

Lucius hisses at him in agitation, “NO, I know where one of them is! It's in my home! I left them alone with it!”

Regulus speaks up, “Sirius, let him go.”

Sirius gives Regulus a narrowed accusatory glare, and Lucius quickly ducks past him snatching some dust out of the cracked jar on the fireplace mantel, throwing it in the fire pit.

“Malfoy Manor!” He snaps as he dashes into green flames licking out of the fire place, disappearing within.

Regulus picks up the booze bottle off the table, “Sirius, sit down, he'll be back,”

He hands the now tightly folded letter from Lily to Severus, who accepts it without a word, before lightly shoving him into a nearby seat. Regulus huffs in annoyance as Severus flicks his wand out and begins silently casting an array of different lights and words into the air. Sirius watches on, before slowly striding over and sitting heavily in the chair beside Regulus.

“This is such a goddamn mess...” He mutters to no one.

Regulus watches as Severus frowns fiercely at the reading from his diagnostic spells.

Sirius looks up at Regulus sharply, “We need to get Remus involved.”

Severus growls, beginning to argue and Regulus silences him with a stern look, before locking eyes with Sirius. “If you can convince him to work with us, we'll have him.” He leans back as Severus, tight lipped, resumes his spell casting. “We could use all the help we could get.” He huffs, glancing out the smudged window to the dark greying world outside, listening to the storm brewing in the distance.

\---

Common Green Birdwing

Privet Drive was a perfectly ordinary suburban street lined with white picket fence and boxish houses, one after the other identical to each other. At number four lived the Dursleys, a little family of a stern stringy woman, a beefy walrus man and there chubby blond haired son. They were people who championed being ordinary to the nth degree, and would have it no other way. They would never approve of magic, rock and roll music, homosexuals or an unexpected baby being left on their doorstep.

Down the road to number four, a red convertible cruises quietly along the street, slowing as it sidles forward, finally parking by a flickering street light. The engine cuts and the headlights blink off, allowing total silence to flood the streets again. After a brief moment, the driver and passenger doors pop open and two women get out. Noctus gets out from the driver side, and hums to herself pleased, snapping the front of her leather jacket and nudging her her door shut with a chuckle. On the passenger side, Celeste get out, dusting off the long skirt of her turquoise dress, and glancing at her companion with a curious stare.

“So,” She hums coolly, “Why are we here?”

Noctus motions around her grandly, “Look!” She hisses with energetic fervour, “What do you see?”

“Well,” Celeste flicks her braided black ponytail, slamming the passenger door and casually sidling to the front of the car, casting her gaze to the surrounding street, “I see...lots of similar houses. Middle class cars. Lots of white picket fence?” She muses.

“Exactly!” Noctus claps her hand, tossing her uneven dark scarlet hair out of her face, “We are standing in...” pause for dramatic effect, “Suburbia.” She poses, arms wide as if presenting the mundane street to her.

Celeste stares at her, nodding a little “...and?” Noctus motions around her more enthusiastically and Celeste sighs, “I think, I'm not getting your point.”

Noctus straightens up and walks towards her, dancing a little. “This quiet corner of the world, untouched by the events around it.” She spins around grandly “None the wiser to the things going on right down the road, nay, right outside their doors.” She shimmies up and slides her hands easily around Celeste's slim waist, swaying with her a little, “Is it strange? To know whats out there, and yet to be able return here, to a perfect corner of normality and the perfectly ordinary.”

Celeste hums, her green eyes sparkling with steely curiosity, “Well yes, that actually is fascinatingly strange.” She spins Noctus gracefully, “Being on one side and then the other, and then to stand on the other side and look back...interesting indeed.”

They pause and stare at the quiet street around them, a cool wind passing them by as they take in the cut and past houses, and think about the cut and past paper people inside, ignorant to the strangeness out there, the bizarreness in the world, the conflicts and the harmonies, lost to them.

After a moment, Noctus looks up at Celeste her disposition a little nervous. “...Do you think we could ever have this?”

Celeste blinks at her in surprise, “...Really? You would want this?” She waves at the street.

Noctus starts to shake her head, but pause and looks to her warmly, “I would want it if you wanted it. I certainly wouldn't hate it.”

“I wouldn't hate it either.” Celeste thinks tilting her head a little, “But...well, I would want a reason of course.” She looks down and smiles sweetly at her love, “ I would like to have a child.” She huffs, and looks away, “Would we even be able to adopt?”

Noctus tugs her close, and bobs up a little, “Of course!” Celeste gives her a curious stare, and Noctus laughs and grins wide, “What's that look for? We would need credentials, and I'll make them for us. We would still need to fight for it, being you know,” She presses her lips together and sighs, “Us.” her good mood returns and she looks up at Celeste, her almost yellow eyes flashing with light, “but we would succeed eventually, I would make sure of it.”

“How would you get fake credentials?”

“Magic of course.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.” Noctus pauses and meets her gaze, warm and glowing, “Well? What do you say?”

Celeste hums and starts to sway her and Noctus back and forth, “I'm intrigued.” Noctus slips her hand into Celeste's threading there fingers together, and she dips the two of them into a slow spiralling dance, as Celeste continues, “But, goodness, are we even ready to raise a child?”

“No one is ready when they realize they are going to be a parent.” Noctus glints and speaks quickly, “I have books on childcare, buried somewhere...”

“Oh, that isn't necessary, I know plenty about raising children, I mean...” She motions to the car sighing, “You know?”

Noctus stops spinning and smiles wickedly,“I can turn it into a house.” Celeste's eyebrows jump up and Noctus smiles a little wider, “Oh whats this? Doubt? Don't ask, I'll tell you...” She leans up an whispers mischievously “Magic.” They start to twirl again Celeste dipping down to playfully nudge their nose together as Noctus continues eagerly “Just say the word! Three bedrooms? a greenhouse? twenty bathrooms? I'm sure I could swing it whatever way you wish!” Celeste shakes her head and laughs high and musically, “You laugh but I'm serious.”

Celeste chuckles and nods, “I know, I know, It's just.” She sighs and looks around whimsically “We'll never have this.” She looks back to Noctus smiling, “We'll have something like it, but what we will have...”

“Will be so much better.” Noctus adds eagerly, “Who needs a white picket fences? Our fence will be all the colours of the rainbow and the stakes will switch colours whenever they please.”

“You're right.” Celeste grins, “I guess I'm just” She laughs again, shoulders shaking, “I guess I'm getting baby crazy...”

Noctus barks an eerie laugh, “I'll be baby crazy with you.” She bobs up on her toes and presses her lips to Celeste's who responds with a happy sigh, before Noctus sinks back down and spins her around excitedly, “Dance with me Darling!”

Celeste laughs and whoops, spinning gleefully before dipping Noctus into a wild passionate kiss.

At number four Privet Drive, a bundle of blankets sits on the doorstep, housing a small sleeping baby, snoozing peacefully and carefully clinging to an envelope. A Green butterfly, bounces curiously down towards the sleeping babe, batting its wings excitedly as it dips down and lands on the babies nose. The baby snuffs, and sneezes, waking up in surprise and tossing the letter from it's hands. A wind tosses around them, the butterfly fluttering up and around as the baby babbles excitedly, and the letter is blown into the nearby underbrush.

Noctus pauses her and Celeste's mesmerizing dance and tilts her head curiously. “...I know we just confirmed we are baby crazy, but did I just hallucinate an actual baby?”

Celeste blinks in surprise and looks around, “No, I heard it too.”

They stare at each other in a silent question until they hear it again, a high pitch happy babbling, quite usual for a young infant. They swiftly move down the street, still holding hands as they carefully follow the excited chirping, leading them along the white picket fence they hum to each other in curious whispers.

“Number Four?” Noctus reads, as Celeste swiftly unclips the fence and strides up to shifting the bundle of blankets on the stone front steps, peering at it curiously,

“Oh!” She gasps.

Noctus wanders up beside her, “That's a baby alright.”

Celeste crouches down elegantly and Noctus carefully puts her hand on her shoulder as they watch the wee baby wiggle happily, reaching out to the green butterfly floating over head, before the glimmering insect drifts away, it's glinting visage floating off and fading into the dark night. The babies big emerald eyes focus on to them instead, and it coos reaching out to them, fussing.

Celeste tears her gaze away and locks eyes with Noctus. No words are spoken, they simply stare at each other, in a brief, silent exchange. The next moment, Celeste turns back, and very carefully scoops the baby up into her arms, gingerly cradling it close to her chest, a small glowing smile gracing her as she rocks the baby back and forth.

“Hello.” She coos as the baby reaches out to tap her nose. She chuckles and looks up to Noctus, who smiles back, bright and eager. Celeste swiftly and carefully rises, starting to sway her way back down the stone lane, Noctus jogging closely behind her.

Celeste huffs indignantly, but still smiles as she bounces the baby a little “Leaving them out here in the cold! How could they!”

Noctus clucks in agreement, “Irresponsible. Good thing we found em. Poor thing could have caught a flu.”

“Exactly.” Celeste sniffs haughtily, still glowing with glee “Let's get them inside and out of this chilly weather.”

Noctus hops ahead of her and skips over to the car, tapping the trunk and smirking. “Right this way, Madame”

Celeste curtsies cheekily as Noctus pops the trunk, opening it to reveal narrow wooden steps leading deep inside, golden warm light spilling out of the opening. Noctus lends her hand to boost Celeste on the steps, and she carefully sways down into the apartment below, Noctus close behind.

The apartment is one room, sporting a kitchenette, a double futon, a sunken couch pit with a table, several decorative potted plants and two folding closets, one which Noctus wanders over to and opens. She huffs at the bathroom, closes the closet and opens the other closet to reveal a corridor of countless items packed together in a strange chaotic but balanced jigsaw. She glances back at Celeste as she settles on the couches, laying the little baby down and carefully unwrapping the wound slightly dirty blankets it's nestled in.

“There is definitely a crib in here somewhere, I uh...” Noctus narrows her eyes into the dimly lit creaking hall. “I think I see it.” She clamours in and Celeste shouts after her.

“Be careful dear!”

Celeste gingerly checks the baby, looking for any worries while whispering little phrases at the gurgling bundle of joy.

“It's a boy!” She laughs aloud, hearing Noctus let out an excited whoop, somewhere deep in the bowls of the Things Closet. “No injuries, he's perfectly healthy outside of this scar here...” She gently traces the lightning scare on his forehead, “I wonder...”

“Found it!” Noctus tumbles out of the closet, a few squeaky toys and stuffed animals tumbling after her as she pulls free, holding the still folded wooden crib high, “We, uh, I'll need to assemble it again...”

Celeste looks up after carefully wrapping the boy back into a tight comfy bundle with a new knitted blanket. “He needs a name.”

Noctus nods and places the crib by the door, sweeping the assorted toys and bottles to the side before closing it.

“Any ideas?” Celeste hums, stepping out of the couch to help Noctus gather the scattered pile.

Noctus tosses a handful of assorted baby items on to the bed, wrinkling her nose, “I suck at names. You should start.”

“Hmm, Ok,” Celeste thinks, and then smiles at a little stuffed lion, “...Jericho?”

“Not bad, bit strange, but not really him...” Noctus nods, and quirks her eyebrow at a squeaky rubber snake “Belladonna?”

“For a boy?”

“Why not?”

“We'll never hear the end of it.” Celeste laughs, tossing Noctus a badger print milk bottle,“It has to go with McJones. How about ...Jazz?”

“Oh I like that but,” Noctus rolls the name on her tongue, “Jazz McJones, Jazz McJones, Sounds a bit weird to me...” She shrugs “What about...Ash?”

“Ash McJones is better than Jazz McJones?” Celeste teases, and she perks up, “Hadrian?”

“Oh I like that one!” Noctus beams “We would shorten it Harry.” She pauses as Celeste frowns at the raven needlepoint pillow “No?” Celeste shakes her head and tosses the pillow on to the bed, “Well how about-”

They both jump at a sudden grinding noise and they turn and watch as one of the potted ferns drags itself across the floor, slowly but surely towards the couch pit, gliding until its longest branch brushes the little baby boy's nose, who in turn erupts in enthusiastic giggling.

They look at each other and both speak the the same time.

“Leif!”

“Fern!”

Noctus winces, “I like Fern better!”

“Fern McJones!” Celeste announces clapping her hands together, “Yes, now that is good name isn't it.”

The two chuckle and warmly watch their new son, Fern McJones, as he bats at the fern's leaves fluttering above his head.

\---

Purple Emperor

He looks out at darkened school grounds, out over the glassy water of the Black Lake, past the schools walls, and past that still, into the countryside, quiet and quaint in the sleepy, cool night. Albus Dumbledore wears no mask up here, he simply exists, seeing past the surface of what what his eyes see, he witnesses the subtle wobble of the earths turn and feels the lives he has witnessed, both alive and lost. He sighs and sags on the balcony railing as he feels the rot of his years, the white noise of the universe, and the weight of all his many sins. He hears the rumble in the distance, a storm brewing, but still far off.

He looks into the night and hums.

“Something is different,” He muses to no one in particular.

There is a piece that wasn't there before, but when he reaches out to the oddity, it draws away, dancing at the end of his finger tips, but never letting him touch it. How does he factor this in to the plan? The war? The boy...the boys presence has moved. It is not wear he left it. He frowns and sighs, searching out where his grand scheme has gone askew, when a purple butterfly glides up to the balcony, landing silently by his hand.

“Ah? What are you doing here?”

The butterfly bats its wings lazily, it's vibrant royal colour glowing in the late moonlight as it peaks its face through the clouds.

“Oh? You do?”

It shimmies along the railing.

“Why don't you tell me where the boy is?”

It bounces up, gliding inside, Dumbledore following close behind.

“Oh, well that's alright then,” He hums stroking his long grey beard, “Do you know about what's on the horizon?”

It settles on the grand desk in the headmaster's office and he summons a bowl of cut orange slices.

“It's Ok, take your time,” He summons himself some tea and a bowl of yellow lemon drops “The night is young, we can talk later.”

He sits gently in his desk chair, brushing his striking purple robes down as he settles into a quiet peaceful contemplation, with the purple butterfly crawling happily on the summoned citrus.


	2. Raising Fern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fern McJones is living his ordinary life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always welcome

If you asked any one, they would say the house on 937 Obscurus Crescent, was perfectly ordinary. No one would see the engraved wooden posts and sidings that sometimes slithered and moved around, the canvas window covers decorated with odd needlepoint animals and plants that hummed and chased each other in playful exuberance, and the uneven rainbow painted picket fence that changed its colours every once and a while as anything odd at all. They too, would not think anything strange of the residents that lived there. The tall tan skinned elegant lady that wore wonderfully pretty dresses and went to every single PTA meeting, book club and teacher meet and greet with the skill and grace of a princess. The short leather jacket sporting woman with the uneven cut blood red hair, who sold home remedies that never failed, and would fix any broken object or take on any odd job, for a price of course. Finally, the small young boy they raised together, with the wild black hair, big green eyes and large round glasses always perched on his button nose, who was always polite, who other kids sometimes saw talking to snakes and who always had some strange old book in his hands.

No one would say anything strange about the family living at 937. To anyone not looking for it, they were in fact, completely ordinary. And the Caravan roof over their heads, wouldn't have it any other way.

\---

He is dreaming of flying. Cold air whipping past his face, the lights of London blurring down below, and the warm comfort of someone carrying him. They are on a flying motorcycle. As he feels himself slowing, drifting down towards the bright lights below, perhaps to land, the dream fades away into his mind and he finds himself in the warm cocoon of being awake, but not quite. Snuggled under his knitted blankets and starchy sheets, he sighs wistfully, quietly memorizing the feeling of flying in his gut, letting the memory of a dream he has had so many times before satiate his desire to one day fly for real.

The door to his bedroom creaks.

 _10 o clock already?_ He wonders.

He keeps his eyes closed and listens to the soft pressure of someone creeping towards his bed, and he resists smiling, keeping his face skilfully relaxed.

_Closer....closer......_

He hears the steps pause at the edge of his bed, and a quiet huff of mischief.

_NOW._

He leaps up and throws his bed coverings at the perpetrator, swamping them in blankets as they stumble back with a yelp of surprise. As they struggle to untangle themselves, Fern dives out of his bed, nabbing his clothes and glasses off the dresser, sneakily evading out of the room and across the hall into the bathroom.

He tosses the door closed, laughing as he quickly throws off his strange frilly night gown and pulls on his day clothes. He tugs the red knitted sweater over his head, making his already wild black hair stand up on end. He fruitlessly tries to pat it down, but to no avail. He hikes up his scuffed hand me down corduroy pants. They are a size too big so he wears them with a pair of plain black suspenders. He slips on his hand knitted socks and snake slippers. He nicks his large round glasses off the counter, sliding them on to his nose before smiling at himself in the mirror. After a brief pause, he pats his bangs down a little to cover the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

He bounds down the thin wooden steps to the first floor, keeping his wits about him for traps, spotting and avoiding one on the last stair step, before he strides over to the rectangular kitchen table and hoists himself into a chair.

Mum Noctus looks up at him from the pan of pancakes she's flipping and smiles at him brightly.

“Morning Kiddo!” She chuckles. She brushes her currently bright green hair out of her eyes and Fern smiles at her slyly, “Good hustle back their. You'll be a ninja yet.”

Ma Celeste walks in through the front door, morning paper in hand, and she brightens upon seeing Fern.

“Darling!” She hums happily, sweeping over and pressing a quick kiss on to his forehead, “Any strange dreams last night?”

“I dreamt of the flying motorcycle again.” He chirps, watching wistfully as Noctus hikes up her sleeve to reveal the coppery tentacle bracelet she always wears. With a flick of her wrist, the pancake plate rises and carefully floats to its place on the breakfast table.

Celeste hums warmly, “Seems like the meditation is working.” She looks up at Noctus, “Still practising with, oh, uh, what's it called?”

Fern pipes up, “Occulmency.”

“Right!” She settles down across from him abandoning the morning paper on the table, “No more night mares then?”

Fern shakes his head and glances up at the flying pig cuckoo clock, wondering why it hasn't chimed.

_9;40?_

He shoots a suspicious glare at Noctus, who wanders up and places the bacon plate down, greeting Celeste with a warm cheeky smooch.

“It's not ten yet...” He hums to them, curious.

“It's not?” Noctus looks at the clock, “Oh huh. Guess my timing was off...” She is speaking cool and easy as always, but Fern is certain he's missing something.

"Dear?” Celeste smooths out the paper and smiles at him warmly, “Noctus forgot the maple syrup. Could you please grab it for me?”

Fern narrows his eyes at them a little.

_Whatever it is, they are both in on it._

He still jumps out of his chair and creeps up to the bright red refrigerator. He eyes it cautiously, before tugging the door handle, skilfully staying out of the direct line of the opening. Instead of any number of tricks or traps, he spies a package, a present, wrapped in glittery green wrapping paper, with his name written on it in loopy elegant handwriting.

He brightens and turns around, as Ma and Mum set off noise makers, Celeste using a hand pull party popper, while Noctus snaps her finger to summon a rain of streamers and confetti showering over all of them.

“Happy Birthday Fern!” They both sing, Noctus summoning and strumming her folk guitar with a twirl and wink.

Fern fetches the package out of the fridge, and the syrup as well, before quickly clamouring back up to the table, “What's the date?” He asks eyeing the package.

Noctus glances at the calendar on the counter, “June 23.”

Fern nods, “We always celebrate in June.” He thinks, “Or July...”

“It's nice to celebrate during the summer!” Noctus pipes, placing the guitar aside and tossing them each a pancake, “Warm weather, no school, places are open and your moms aren't working as much.”

Fern nods, it makes sense. Its not like any of them know when his birthday really is anyway.

He pushes the gift aside a little, “Can I look for my other presents?”

Celeste looks at him over her paper, “Eat first! The Book Club thinks I don't feed you or something...”

“He's just small and full of boundless energy.” Noctus smiles at him, “He'll grow like a weed once puberty hits,”

Fern wrinkles his nose, “Stop. I'll eat. Please, no more grown up talk.”

Noctus laughs her strange chirpy chuckle and waves her hand in a circular fashion the kitchenware hopping up and tossing themselves in the sink.

He watches on curiously, chewing his pancake, “Mum?”

“Yea kiddo?”

He swallows, “Do you think I'll get my talisman this year?”

Noctus sips her tea and exchanges a silent look with Celeste, before answering, “You're a little young to get a talisman. Most only find theirs when they are 15, at least.”

Fern huffs quietly, and watches another exchange between his parents, before Celeste speaks up, “Well, that being said, we have talked about maybe getting you a wand...”

He looks between them, “Hmmm. Do you mean...I may get to go to magic school?”

This silent parent exchange happens with a slight tension between Celeste's eyes, only present when she is worried, and the wide eyed look Noctus gets when she is trying not to give herself away, but is feeling guilty.

_Uh oh._

Their looks vanish and Celeste places her paper down. “Fern? We would like to talk about this later. Ok?”

He watches them carefully, but senses no evasion from them, so he smiles and nods. “Later.”

Noctus bounces back to her hyperactive self, “What you should be doing is finding your birthday presents! Go lad! Find them!”

Fern shoots out of his seat and quickly starts searching up, around and about.

No more presents in the kitchen, none by the table, nor in the front closet, none under the couch and none hidden in the mass of wires, screens and electronics that was the Muggle Media System, so he continues on.

He pushes open the backdoor into the small fenced in weedy plot of land that is the backyard, the dense forest hovering just beyond the multicoloured back gate.

“Fern!” Hisses a little voice.

He quickly kneels down and picks up the rock by the houses foundation. Several small thin snakes slither out, all hissing and humming.

“Fern!”

“Good Morning!”

“Any rodents?”

“What a nice day!”

Fern chuckles at them, and hisses back, “I'm looking for a package. It's my hatching day today!”

They all clamour.

“Happy Hatching Fern!”

“Yay Fern!”

“A Package?”

“Is it Shiny?”

“I saw it!”

“I as well!”

The snakes lead him to one of the loose pickets in the fence, and hidden right on the other side is another green wrapped present.

“Thanks!” He hisses, “I have more to find, I'll see you later.”

They still follow him to the door, humming excitedly.

“Of course!”

“See you later!”

“Happy Hatching again!”

“Come back soon!”

Fern races back in and deposits the package with the other, Ma and Mum still sitting at the dining table, reading the news and chatting idly.

Fern avoids the trap on the last step and bounds up to the second floor. He wanders down the narrow auburn hallway, poking his head into the bathroom, and skipping over the parents room. He's allowed in there, but this one time he went snooping and just...

 _Never Again,_ he shakes his head and swiftly moves on to his own room. _They never hide presents in there, anyway._

It doesn't take long wandering around his green painted room, searching under odd but functioning furniture and well worn carpets, that he finds a gift stashed under his bed, accompanied by some spooked dust bunnies. He places the gift outside of his room and slips up the spiralling stairs at the end if the hall.

He walks quickly along the steel and glass observation window that looks into the alchemy lab. He passes the safety equipment closet with a quick peek, before opening the large steel door to the lab proper with a bit of effort. Slipping inside he sees the lab is clean and unused right now, signs of a slower remedy season. He searches around the large black cauldron, countless vials and assorted instruments cautiously and carefully. He wanders to the ingredients closet, and lo and behold, sitting in the centre of the closet's stone floor surrounded by shelves of dried items, jars of gruesome parts and strange looking concoctions, is another gift. He places it by the stairs and continues up yet again, climbing the steel ladder to the top floor.

He breaths in the smell of old parchment and warm wet soil, and smiles as he pulls himself up on to the hardwood floor landing. On one side is the sliding wood and canvas doors that lead into the library, or at least that's what it's supposed to be. It carries countless books, but if you travel far enough in, their are walls and walls of bizarre items collected over life times gone past, all piled and organized together in an unfathomable system.

The other hallway wall is clear fog kissed glass, with a door of shiny twisted wrought iron and stained crystal-like panes leading into the greenhouse garden, packed with countless magical and non-magical plants, some singing, some dancing, and some are tomatoes.

The end of the hall is a small painted mural of a red door. Like he had done time and time again, he quickly walks to the red door mural and places his hand against it, tracing his fingers quickly along the frame, ornate door handle and detailed keyhole checking that the red door is still just a picture. The shading and strokes were eerily realistic, and in his early years, Fern felt frightened that he would arrive on the top floor and just find the red door open, with no explanation.

 _Silly. But..._ He steps back and looks the door over once again, _Nope, still not real..._

His attention is drawn away as he catches a glint of something glittery in the greenhouse. Tilting his head to the side he sees a present laid nestled in the grip of a large snoozing vine. He clicks open the greenhouse door and creeps in, stepping around the many pots and plots carefully, so not to damage any of the plants. He trips over to the vine and looks it up and down. He is by the the cucumber plants, so this is probably the Dutchman's Noose vine. Despite it's name, it is a larger, tamer breed, of magical strangling vine, and Fern knows how to get it to give up the goods. He quietly kneels beside the plant, gently stroking its tense, thick green vines, humming a soft tune. The plant groans a little and softens in kind, so he continues singing and petting the vines until they flop aside, fully relaxed. He snatches up the gift and chuckles as he slips away.

Dropping the gift off in the hallway, he walks up to one of the sliding doors to the library. Closing his eyes, he focuses, calming his mind and mood.

_I'm looking for a gift. Probably green wrapping._

He opens his eyes and slides open the door finding the present sitting on a pile of books, at the first bookshelf in front of him. As much as Fern wants to just settle in on one of the scattered old sofas and curl up to read the whole day away, he figures it would be rude to vanish on his birthday, so he simply smiles to himself as he picks up the gift. He pauses as he sees the book directly underneath.

_Gilly the Squid's Advanced Potions Manual and Cookbook, By Squid Gillamsquire._

_Huh?_ He places the gift aside and picks up the green covered book, _I haven't read this one before..._

After a moment of consideration, he tucks the book under his arm and wanders out of the library with his gift in hand.

Juggling the gifts, he wanders back downstairs and places them on the table with a grin. Celeste is putting away dishes and Noctus looks up from tuning her guitar.

“You're missing one.” She huffs with a sly smile.

Fern's eyebrows raise. “I am?” He looks over the gifts. “There are six here already, that's more than last year, I...” He mummers “I don't really need more...”

Celeste sweeps away from the dishes to peck him on the head, “Oh dear, Fern you must let your poor mothers spoil you every once and a while...”

He wonders if them spoiling him is related to what happened last year, or the yet to be spoken conversation about magic school. He glances around and muses that, most likely, business has been good and they just want to celebrate.

He looks up at his Mum and sighs, “OK, I give, where is it.”

Noctus' bobs to her feet, eyes alight with mischief, “You give up too easily! It's game time.”

Fern sighs, and Noctus continues, “Me and Celeste placed all the gifts before you woke up this morning, except the gift that was under your bed, which I placed after you absconded to the bathroom.” She waves her arms as if presenting something grand. “It is in this room. What is here, that was not yesterday?”

Fern wrinkles his nose, but focuses, scanning the first floor, soaking in the well used and loved mismatched furniture, the large and airy windows and doors, the scuffed smooth floors, the narrow steps to the upstairs...

_The last step!_

Fern shakes his head with a small smile and walks up to the stairs, jumping on the trap set on the last step. The trap activates, and in a thrill of fanfare, a gift jumps free from the little hidden alcove above the stairs. Fern catches it as confetti rains about him in a shower of pleasant colour.

Noctus laughs and Celeste speaks up, “She set it up so you would trip it before breakfast, but you were too clever, so we had to improvise.”

Noctus looks at Celeste with a sheepish warm smile,“I would be lost without you...”

“Ugh, no smooching please!” Fern groans, slapping his gift on the table.

Celeste rolls her eyes, “You'll understand one day Fern”

“No adult talk!” He jumps up into his seat and beckons them, “Focus!”

Noctus and Celeste shrug and settle down for the gift unwrapping, Noctus sneaking a quick teasing kiss on Celeste's cheek.

The gifts are as bizarre as expected. Noctus recreated his favourite kind of pink soda and mixed it with non alcoholic Gigglewater so that it actually tickles him when he drinks it. Celeste knit him a green sweater that has blooming kitted flowers, a purple scarf with some band names he enjoys like Pink Floyd and Queen scrolling along it in large black letters, and varying snake decorated socks that are charmed to hiss and slither when they are dirty, thanks to Noctus' charms. Celeste made him a new alarm clock, since his initial one escaped late one night, and this new one is made of several broken watches and timepieces amalgamated into a multifaceted and many faced clock that plays a jaunty tune when activated. Celeste and Noctus combined there efforts to make a cactus creature; it has a cat face and ears, it purrs, it meows, it dances, it needs sunlight and water, but it can also eat meat, and it is technically not a living creature, which would be concerning if it wasn't a miracle in Herbology and so damn cute. Finally Celeste salvaged a broken music player, putting several of his favourite albums on it, and Noctus fixed it to work in magical locations, with the only down side being that it is the the relative size and weight of a brick.

“I love it!” He hums happily as he clicks the music player on.

They laugh and talk as he coerces the music player into playing a song he likes, when Noctus waves her hand, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, and his new snake socks all jump from there box and wriggle away to hide. They spend the next hour trying to get them all back in the cardboard box they came in, David Bowie singing soulfully over their climatic wrestling, and the cactus plant, now named Spiny, bobbing along.

“So Fern,” Noctus musses his hair as he reorganizes his gifts, “It's your day today. What would you like to do?”

Fern brightens, “Let's go to the zoo!”

“Alright! Grab your jacket and we'll be on our way!”

Fern weighs the option of bringing his new music player along, but decides against it. He doesn't want it to get damaged or stolen on the bus after all.

_I think I would notice if someone attempted to steal it..._

He decides to bring the book he found instead. Grabbing his jacket from the front closet, he notices his mothers exchanging a quick quiet conversation by the door, neither distressed, but both worried. He slips his jacket on and sidles over catching the tale end of Noctus' sentence.

“...Let him decide...”

They see him getting close and change to a different topic. He easily starts up the conversation on where he found this cool new book, pushing any troubles to the back of his mind for the time being, as they stroll to the bus stop.


	3. Vanishing Glass and Feisty Fabric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fern's birthday continues as a rollercoaster of events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcome!

The bus is crowded but Fern doesn't mind. In the past he had wondered, why they didn't apparate, besides it being a wholly unpleasant experience.

“Too many non magic folk around kiddo. Don't want to scare the Muggles yeah?”

Mum Noctus' logic made sense, so Fern never questioned about apparating again. He did ask why the didn't have a car.

“Cars are expensive dear. We don't really have the money for it...”

Ma Celeste also made sense, so Fern didn't bother arguing. He was taught to ride the bus and he learned to like it, even though the zoo is a nearly two hour ride away, on a good day.

They arrive at the bus stop and walk to the zoo entrance, a ten minute walk at least, and the woman at the turns dial smiles at them warmly.  
“McJones! Back again?”

Noctus snaps finger guns at her, “Right you are! Two adults and a senior.”

“Hey!”

“Junior, sorry.”

She stamps their hands and waves them in, chuckling at their antics.

Fern gravitates towards the reptile house immediately, his moms trailing behind without compliant. He enters the humid fake cave, plastic walls spray painted murky green and indented with many clear tanks, each teeming with wall eyed lizards, colorful frogs, sleepy turtles and grinning crocodiles. He skips ahead, knowing his way around like second nature, and he swiftly finds his way to the snake room. He enters, glancing around cautiously, and seeing no families around despite the relatively busy day, he jogs up to the tanks.

“Hey Mallory!”

The large brown striped Boa Constrictor in the tank front and centre stops pretending to snooze, and raises her head.

“Ah, Fern, pleasure to see you again.”

“It's my hatching day today. I demanded to come visit.”

“Happy Hatching!” Exclaims Jace the Azemiopnae Viper, slithering her blue and orange body closer to the glass.

“Thanks!” He sits on the stone bench at the centre of the room and settles his book in his lap, “So any interesting visitors?”

Gem the Black Mamba rears up her pale greyish body and hisses dramatically from her tank's fake tree, “Oh My God! You would not believe...”

Fern listens passionately, simply enjoying the stream of conversation from the reptile house snakes.

Local garden style snakes are fairly eager and polite, simply happy to be spoken to and involved. But not zoo snakes. Zoo snakes are used to spending hours being visited by humans, hours of happily laying about in tempered tanks, and everyday they are given prey to eat at regular intervals. Some yearned to be outside for a little while, but majority speaking, they were all immensely comfortable and often felt no need for anything more in their lives. They were snakes after all. They simply did not care as long as they were fed and allowed to breed during the allotted time.

Funnily enough, for a bunch of snakes, they tended to gossip like hens. Judging and observing visitors is the main source of entertainment after all.

“And that greasy little human child! Smudged my glass like nothing else...”

“Children!” Scoffs Monty the Burmese Python, before she turns to address Fern, “No offence of course.”

“No it's alright. They don't understand.” He was never fond of how judgmental they all were, but it was nonetheless immensely entertaining. “Please continue.”

“What's that you have there?” Mallory distracts.

“Oh?” He holds up the book, “A magic book. I can make potions with it.”

“Do any recipes have snake parts in it?” Gem hums, swaying a little and trying to get a closer look.

Fern gets up and flips haphazardly through the book, showing the pages to the snakes. “I don't really know. I just got it today.”

“Fern?” Celeste pokes her head in.

He looks back, “Yeah?”

“Me and Noctus are going to grab something from the gift shop. Will you be staying here?”

Fern nods and motions to the snakes, “I want to talk with them more.”

She smiles, a little sadly, “Of course. We'll be back in a jiffy.” The sadness vanishes and she raises her eyebrows, “Stay out of trouble.”

“Of course.” Fern says in mock offence.

She smiles and speak to the room at large in broken snake speech, saying, “No...Trouble...” before vanishing around the corner with a sway of her flowing skirt.

“Oh she tried...” Sighs Monty amused. “Needs work. That accent...”

Mallory tosses her head in a way similar to rolling ones eyes, “It's nice she is making progress. How did you come to be a speaker, if your elders are not?”

Fern frowns as he thinks, “No idea...I could just talk to snakes for as long as I could remember...”

“Very strange.” Gem sighs. “Magic perhaps?”

Fern shrugs. “I could have gotten it from my biological parents.”

“They are not your direct elders?” Jace asks tilting her head.

“No, no” Fern laughs, “They can't have kids together...”

_Please do not make me explain the birds and the bees to a bunch of snakes...again._

He is interrupted by a family entering the snake room and he quickly pretends to be reading his book and wandering nearby, as if just another distracted visitor. The snakes in turn, huff in aggravation and slither into the back of their tanks, acting petulant at the interruption. He glances at the small four person group, a stringy stern looking woman wearing a shawl, an absolute walrus of a man in a suit and tie, a very heavyset blond boy and a smaller sly looking boy.

_The snakes judgmental nature is rubbing off on me, It's just a family visiting the zoo, geez._

He shakes his head and tries to focus on his book, but is disrupted by the man and what Fern assumes to be his son banging on Mallory's tank glass, despite the clear sign on the plaque asking people not to. He is staring openly now as the blond chubby boy starts going into a full on temper tantrum meltdown over the snakes ignoring him and pretending to sleep.

_Yikes._

The woman and man try to placate their son while the other boy just hovers by the other snake tanks, making faces at them. Fern leans on the far plastic wall and waits, watching the family complain about the snakes, the zoo and other various things. After a prolonged while, the group grows board and drifts out of the snake room, looking instead at the reptiles on the nearby wall outside. Fern watches them from over his book, before creeping back over to Mallory's tank.

“Are you ok?” He hisses, low.

“Mmph!” Mallory huffs indigently, “Brat.”

“Yeah, that was...” Fern winces, “Sorry you have to deal with that.”

Mallory shrugs or at least the snake equivalent to a shrug, “It's typical.”

Fern is interrupted by a shout behind him, “MUM, DAD LOOK WHAT THE SNAKE'S DOING!”

Fern turns around in surprise and is promptly shoved out of the way, falling on his butt hard and sending his book flying. He looks up at the overweight blond boy pressing his face against the glass and frowns fiercely, a cold rage boiling in his stomach.

 _RUDE,_ He curses in his head.

One second the tank glass is there, where it usually is, and then suddenly it's gone. The boy yelps in surprise as he collapses into the tank, splashing as he hits the faux environments heated water. Mallory takes full advantage, slithering swiftly out on to the concrete floor with a mischievous hiss.

“You alright Fern?”

Still a little stunned, he snatches up his book and nods quickly, “Yeah just surprised. You?”

“Going on an adventure. Ssssseee you ssssoooon.” Mallory sings in a haunting way, coiling out of her tank completely and sliding away, hissing and dancing as unsuspecting zoo patrons leap away from her, screaming.

Fern looks back at the tank when there is a soft muffled thunk, and his eyes widen as the boy inside places his hands against the newly re-summoned glass. Fern curses in a way he is technically not supposed to and jumps to his feet, as the boy inside the tank starts pounding on the habitat glass, wailing. Fern races out of the room, past the man, woman and other kid gawking at the entrance and he beelines for the nearest security guard, who has just arrived to investigate the escaped snake.

“Their is a kid in the Boa Constrictor tank!” He says hurriedly, “H-He some how let the snake out and now he's stuck inside!” The security guard races past Fern into the snake room.

Fern watches from afar for a moment, as the security guard calls for back up, the family panics and the other snakes laugh and laugh and laugh at the brats misfortune.

_Time to disappear._

Fern turns away and quickly starts walking, hurrying to a spot his parents will most likely look for him. Just as he turns the corner, checking there are no other patrons around, he is suddenly and roughly grabbed. He spins around and pulls back in surprise, the woman from earlier having a painfully bony grip on his wrist.

He feels a clench of fear in his stomach and is rooted to the spot, “Let me go.” He says firmly.

“You did this.” She spits her thin face contorted in rage, “You did this, you Freak.”

“I don't know what your talking about,” He says bluntly, trying to ignore the quickening pace of his heart.

_I have to move, dammit!_

She opens her mouth to screech at him again when hurried footsteps round the corner.

Fern stares on worriedly as his moms rush on to the scene. Celeste's dark green eyes flash with hot silver and her lip curls back in a feral way.

“UNHAND MY SON!” She bellows in rage.

Noctus meanwhile has the complete opposite reaction, all her emotions evaporating off of her, leaving behind a bone chilling blank look, her yellow eyes wide and teeming with a terrifying red aura.

She mutters, “Piertotum Locomotor” and moves her hand a fraction.

The woman leaps back in surprise, releasing Fern with a horrified yelp as the shawl she's wearing rears up and attacks her, swiftly wrapping itself around her head and face.

Celeste rushes forward and scoops up Fern, Noctus quickly clasping their hands together and muttering, “Think of Home everybody.”

Fern is gripped by a horrible but familiar feeling, as he is yanked up by his navel and pressed through a spot too tight, before he suddenly released by the horrible disorienting feeling, nausea still stirring around his head.

They are standing in front of their house. Fern pulls away from Celeste his paralyzing fear dissipating into restless anxiety.

“I didn't mean to!” He gasps, “The boy pushed me, I got mad, and it just vanished.”

Celeste wrangles him back into a warm tender hug and he feels his worries lessen, “It's okay dear, it's alright.”

Noctus is still holding Celeste's hand and she kneels beside them, tenderly patting his back, “Take a breath kiddo, focus, relax.”

Fern follows her words, like he has so many times before.

_Clear my head. Calm my mood. Solidify my mind._

He imagines the top floor of the house, and he carefully reconstructs the walls in his mind, made of misty glass like the greenhouse, holding the warm infinite interior of the library, and the red door, painted in place, eerie to see, but only he sees it open.

He opens his eyes and lets out a slow breath, “I'm sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologies for.” Celeste hums looking at him.

He shakes his head, “No, I,” He winces, “I was talking to the snakes and their son pushed me out of the way. I got mad, and it was just like last time. Suddenly the glass just vanished. He fell in, Mallory escaped and the the glass reappeared and trapped him inside, I panicked and-”

“You didn't do anything wrong.” Noctus says quickly. “What you did was an accident. She grabbed you, and that was unacceptable.” Fern looks at her and pauses, so she continues. “What are the rules of trouble I taught you after school last year...”

Fern nods, concentrating, “Don't get caught, find a peaceful solution, escape, and if all else fails...”

Noctus rises and pulls them all to rise with her, “Don't be afraid to fight back.”

Fern wrinkles his nose, “I froze.”

“Makes sense. You're not used to fighting yet. And this different from those older boys at school.” Celeste ushers them past the gate and towards the house. “This was an adult, she should have known better. So we are now having a conversation about necessary violence.”

Noctus' attitude relights, “Weak Points!” She pipes with a little too much enthusiasm, as they sweeps into the house, “Eyes, throat, ears, nose, testicles, knees. Biting fingers works too. The goal!” She announces spinning around to face them with a calm grin, “Cause enough damage to get away. Not to win, but to escape.” She nods to herself, satisfied.

Celeste sighs, as Fern slips out of his jacket, “Dear,” He looks at her, “She should not have grabbed you like that. If an adult grabs you, tell them firmly to let go, and if they don't...”

Fern looks to Noctus who smiles. “I...stab them in the eye?” He says hesitantly.

Noctus flashes him a thumbs up and Celeste nods with a concerned look, “Perhaps try something less permanently damaging right off the bat, but you have the spirit of it. Now,” She claps her hands together, “To the couch with you. Relax and find something to watch. I'm making grilled cheese sandwiches.”

Noctus' head swivels in alarm, “I'll make them!” She yelps, quickly rushing into the kitchen, “Please dear, I really don't mind.”

Celeste eyes her, “Is my cooking really that bad?”

“...No...” Noctus says carefully, “I just...like to cook.”

Celeste hums and tosses her hair dramatically. “Fine. I will get the gift.”

Fern pauses as he plops down on the couch, feeling a bit tired as the drama of the day settles on him. “Gift?”

He jerks back as a soft snout boops his nose. He focuses and sees Celeste holding a very large stuffed snake, the relative size of a healthy Green Anaconda. He laughs as she carefully winds the snake around him, smiling.

He snuggles into the snake sighing and letting the day's conflict leave him behind, as Celeste starts fighting with the clunky TV remote for the amalgamate non-magic media system. The main screen lights up and starts playing a _Murder She Wrote_ episode, refusing to budge from the channel despite Celeste's fussing.

As he pets his new snake and mulls over the day something occurs to him. "Oh!”

“What's the matter dear?” Celeste asks, half tangled in the wires as the VCR player hisses at her like a goose.

“Old Miss Agatha!” He sits up suddenly, “I promised to visit her today!”

Noctus leans over the kitchen counter, magically juggling bread slices, cheese and butter, “You better hurry on over then!”

Fern smiles widely and leaps out of his seat, and Celeste instinctual walks after him, “Maybe I should...”

Fern shakes his head, “It's next door Ma. I won't get into trouble just walking down the road.” He watches as she summons a claim, tight smile. He quickly hugs her around her lithe waist, “I am okay.” He says firmly. “I will be okay.”

Celeste's smile becomes softer, more genuine, “Where did you learn to bounce back so fast?” She hugs him tightly, “When did you grown up so much...”

Fern feels an unanswered question, a thought incomplete. There is something he has not been told.

_Let it go. They will tell you when they are ready. They always do._

Fern pulls back and smiles at her bravely, before snatching his jacket off the chair and racing out the door.

He hits the hot cracked sidewalk outside in a quick stride, making his way down the street and past many plain houses, bathing in the midday sun. While he walks his mind takes a quick detour.

FREAK. It stung. He said he was fine, but...

_Still hurts. Whether its those boys from school or some adult._

He never figured out why those boys at school even targeted him. Maybe it was because of his hand me down clothes, his second hand items, the fact he is adopted with two moms, him being small, his unruly hair, or maybe it was because he kept helping the other targets get away. Whatever it was, they decided he was worth less than a person.

_I was going to handle it myself._

Teachers said they would help but nothing ever changed. He wasn't close enough with anyone to gang up and fight back. He didn't want to worry his mom's when they put in so much money and effort to get him into public school in the first place. So he became a little faster, a little slyer, a little tougher and used all his wits to stay away from them.

By the time he was lying on his back, four kids twice his size clinging on for dear life, stranded up in the schoolyard tree branches like ugly fruit, he struggled to justify how he even got there. One moment they caught up to him and he braced for impact. The next he is staring up at the clear blue sky and worried about how mad his mothers will be.

_I promised, no magic around the others._

They were pissed, but not with him. He sat outside the principle's office, Noctus at his side murmuring to him about how it's okay to ask for help and go to a _responsible_ adult, while Celeste tore a strip of the Principle with an unholy fury that shook the very walls of the school building. He's finished his last few weeks of schooling at home...

He returns to himself, standing outside the Crescent Moon Bookshop. He looks up at the faded wooden sign and dark dusty windows and tries to think of the last time he actually cried. He just stopped at some point.

_Is that normal for a kid my age?_

He shoves the thoughts away and pushes open the creaky shop door.

The little series of old chimes glint and jingle, breaking the dense silence of the old musty shop, dust from floor sweeping up and around like snow.

“AH!” Creaked the ancient voice of Old Miss Agatha, the wizened old woman sitting and knitting in her rocking chair by the cold fireplace. “Finally came by, hm?”

She is a crooked, crouched woman, leathery skin deep with wrinkles and spots, clothes marred with stitches and patches, her beetle like grey eyes always sharp, dancing and dangerous. She rises and shuffles quickly around, slipping her knitting into the chair as Fern wanders in, looking up at the uneven walls of dusty old books, scanning their faded titles and looking for something he doesn't recognize.

“I sorta forgot,” Fern sighs, “I had a conflict this morning.”

“A conflict?” Hums Old Agatha before huffing a low chortle. “Accidental magic?”

Fern looks up in surprise, “Y-Yeah! I...” He wrinkles his nose, “I trapped a kid inside a zoo exhibit...”

“Serves that brat right,” She calls from the back room behind the counter.

Fern rolls his eyes, “I shouldn't have lost control.” And he mutters, “I need to learn to handle my magic better.”

Agatha nods sagely, her large crooked grin still plastered on her face as she slaps a large long package on the counter. “Magic School?” Fern shrugs.

She beckons him close with a long creaky finger, and he leans in, cautiously.

“Soon. Your parents are going to make an offer. Delay it. There are much bigger plans for you out there.” She shuffles the newspaper wrapped gift towards him and lets out low, very witch like cackle.

Fern had never seen Old Miss Agatha cast any spells but...

_She is magic, no doubt._

He considers her words and nods, a sage smile in place. He looks over the gift and she motions him to take it. “Open it after lunch my dear.” She chuckles again, “and come back to visit when I am open again.”

He scoops up the gift and grins at her warmly, “Thanks! I will come by very soon. But...” He shuffles curiously “How did you know I was going to be celebrating my birthday today?”

She settles back into her rickety rocking chair, wizened old hands clicking as she begins her knitting anew, working on a doily that seems to be in the shape of a butterfly, “Lucky guess sonny. Now off with you! You'll miss the sandwiches.” She waves at him, still grinning like mad.

Fern waves back and saunters outside. He pauses under the hot summer sun.

_It always feels like just I stepped out of a completely different world..._

He examines the long package as he hurries along home, worries of the past year lost in the possibilities of the future. After all, her words always carry a curious weight and her wide grin always carries a secret.

_I'm going to magic school? If only her answers were straight forward..._

He's back home before he knows it, and he pushes inside still floating in a hazy whirl of possibilities.

“Heya Fern!” Noctus greets, placing the plates on the table, “Just in time! Old Miss Agatha still her cryptic self?”

“She isn't a witch right?” He asks placing the package by the door.

Noctus hums, “She is a Listless. Her magical core is blocked. I believe the British call them Squibs.”

Celeste tsks, “Listless. She is magical whether she can casts spells or not.”

“No doubt.” Noctus shrugs. “You don't really need to cast spells to be magic.”

“Agreed” Fern says finally, taking a sandwich and quickly eating.

He gives a brief pause to allow his parents to start on their own sandwiches.

“So, magic school.” He announces, waiting for Noctus to cease choking and Celeste to smooth her worry down. “I am ready for the conversation you have been avoiding. Please don't evade it anymore, I'm not fragile, I can take it.”

Celeste and Noctus trade another patented wordless exchange and Noctus starts,

“We want to send you to magic school, BUT.” Noctus pauses dramatically, “We cannot afford it, and we don't know how the British magic school system works.”

Celeste tuts, “You don't, I do.” She looks at Fern fondly. “There is one magic school in all of Britain; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It's a private school, you need and invitation to attend.” Her brow furrows as she ponders. “You have magic, but the admitting factors to the school are horribly vague. In any case we have a back up plan.”

Fern nods slowly and Noctus picks up the conversation, “There is a public wizard school. It's in Canada, but they are willing to let us pay as we go.” She motions excitedly, “We don't have to decide right away, pressure free, we are just looking at our options.”

He was used to homeschooling, both magical and otherwise, but his mothers were desperate for him to connect with other kids his age, and insisted on non magical public school.

He sighed, _I sorta wish I knew kids my age that I could discuss and practice magic with..._

It seemed his parents had already predicted this desire and had vetoed continuing his magical homeschooling while there was still other options on the table. Even if those options were far away...

Fern wonders, “Why can't we afford magic school?”

Celeste shrugs, “We have very little wizard currency.”

“What about the Ransom Fund?” He hums easily, stacking the dirty plates.

Celeste shoots Noctus a sharp look, and Noctus throws her hands up in defence, “Don't look at me. I didn't tell him.”

 _“_ I overheard you.” He amends.

Celeste returns to her calm front, “We can use the money in the account but we can't move it.”

“Can't move it, can't exchange it to wizard monies.” Noctus continues.

“Why?” He pauses “Is the money...Illegal?”

“Not Technically.” Noctus coughs.

Fen hums, and then relaxes with a sigh. “We should wait.”

“For a letter?” Celeste taps her fingers on the table nervously, “But we aren't sure...” She trails off.

Fern nods firmly, “No pressure right? Then I want to wait.” He sits back and eyes the package at the door. “Now that that's over with, want to see what Old Miss Agatha got me?”

Celeste relaxes a little more and motions at the package, urging Fern to get it, while Noctus eyes it with a wicked little grin.

Fern fetches the gift from beside door and places it on the now cleared table, Noctus whisking the plates to the sink with another flick of her wrist. He runs his hands a long the yellowed old newspaper, catching snippets and glimpses of writing, but no photographs.

_Accused of crimes...Dumbledore acts...Death Eater...Boy Who Lived, Missing..._

He quickly finds a crease in the paper and starts to unravel it, coiling the item free from the interwoven ink scraps. The fist part he uncovers is a smooth straight wooden stick, and he quickly reveals the other end to be a thin and bushy bundle of hair like twigs,

His breath hitches as he realizes what it is, “NO way...”

He looks up at his mothers to confirm; Noctus is smiling wide, concealing a chortle and Celeste is glaring at the broom, haughtily.

“IT is!” He gasps, jumping out of his seat, “Right?!”

Noctus grins at him mischievously, “Well, how about you find out?”

Fern quickly dashes to an open space, placing the broom on the floor and then standing beside it, hand raised over the broom handle.

He takes a deep breath, “UP!” He commands.

The broom jolts off the floor and up into his hand so fast in nearly knocks him over.

Celeste gets up with a start and Noctus lets out a howl of laughter, “Oh my god she did!”

Fern's mind is whirring, “Can I try it out? Please please please please.”

Celeste huffs “Of course, but...” She gives him a stern mom look, “You are not allowed to fly more than a few feet of the ground.”

He groans, “But Ma...”

“No Buts!” She snakes her head, smiling a little, “I don't want you at any dangerous heights until you know how to ride it properly.”

Noctus recovers enough to leap out of her seat, “Lets go to the Fairy Field! I'll race ya!” She bounds towards the back door, Fern hot on her heals as Celeste scolds after them, her voice fading behind him as they pick up the pace, “Race on Foot! And Wait until I arrive!”

He scampers after Noctus, gaining on her despite her long bouncy strides as they dash through the gate and into the woods, leaping and bounding around foliage and rocks as they move deep into the shady expanse of trees. Despite carrying a slightly obtrusive broom with him, he still manages to tumble ahead of her as they enter the large open meadow clearing, dotted with many different mushrooms. He laughs as he sits up right and Noctus stumbles in mocking being out of breath.

“You're gettin fast Kiddo!” She chuckles

He smiles up at her and leaps to his feet, quickly mounting his broom.

“Ah ah!” She clicks her tongue, “Wait for Ma.”

“I'm not lifting off yet!” He humphs, “I'm just getting my bearings.”

Noctus leans close and points at his hands, “Not like...” He adjusts them, “Yeah that's it...” He shifts his stance “Better, bend your knees don't lock them.” He shifts again, loosening his legs, “Good!”

He looks behind Noctus to see Celeste standing at the edge of the clearing watching them, a warm smile on her face, eyes swimming with quiet contentment.

Ma!” He waves at her, “I'm going to lift off!”

Noctus turns to look at Celeste, and waves her over. Fern takes the opportunity to bend his knees a little and carefully pull up his legs. The broom hovers easily, letting him drift a little as his feet finally leave the ground for the very first time. He whoops in surprise and Noctus looks on, allowing her hand to be crushed in the grip of a slightly nervous, but very happy Celeste.

“You're a natural kid!” She sings as she lets out another bird like laugh.

He drifts a little further up and savours the weightlessness as he tilts the broom forward and around, making graceful uneasy circles in the air, Noctus cheering him on and Celeste laughing warmly.

He loops around, smiling down at them, coasting around through the glistening sunlight filtering through the trees, and he feels at peace.

Fern feels that despite all the troubles, and no matter what may come, they will always be alright, and they will always be free.

  
  



	4. Who the Hell is Harry Potter?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celeste and the McJones family come to a startling conclusion one summer day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated!

The summer stretches on, laying out warm and relaxed like a cat snoozing on a sun warmed windowsill. Fern is adamant on waiting for the school letter that might not come, and although he remains firm on his decision to wait, Celeste is feeling the subtle pressure of the silence as the summer hums on.

The breakfast she had failed to make this morning lay at the bottom of the trashcan as a pile of fine ash, so she is eating cereal when Fern bounces down the stairs in a huff and pulls himself up onto his dining table chair. As he chooses which cereal to eat, by sugar content no doubt, she gives a small smile at his currently magenta hair.

He doesn't look at her and mutters “I have days I slip up. So what?”

She can't help but laugh softly, “Goodness dear, no need to be defensive. I think it looks nice.”

She watches him kicks his feet a little as he finally settles on the cereal with marshmallows in it, which she only bought because she can not resist the excited pleas of both her son and wife at the same time, when he speaks up a little “Would you be okay if it was permanent?”

She tilts her head curiously, mulling it over before answering “If it made you happy, I suppose...” She looks off to the side, “Why? Do you want to? Pink is nice but perhaps turquoise would suite you better?”

“No! God No.” He yelps, “But uh...I guess I was curious.”

“He's asking how much he can get away with.” Noctus chuckles as she appears downstairs with her satchel in hand and her hair cast about her carelessly “He is entering a rebellious phase. Dye your hair Fern. Live on the wild side!” She pumps her fists enthusiastically with a whoop.

Celeste rolls her eyes and leans back to give Noctus a morning kiss, savouring her easy warmth and softness, lingering a little before pulling back with a happy hum, “He's a little young for teenage rebellion.”

He scoffs at them, “I'm eleven, I'm plenty old enough.”

Celeste and Noctus smile at him mischievously before quickly crowding around him, smooch him on the head and ruffling his hair as he hisses indignantly.

“Oh, of course dear.” Celeste combs his hair aside as it fades back to it's familiar dark shade, “Dye your hair, get a piercing, get a tattoo, but you will need the money and most likely permission from an adult.” She catches Noctus giving him a sly wink, “A responsible adult.”

He picks up his now empty bowl and sidles away from their crowding with a sniff, “I have money.”

Celeste trades a curious look with Noctus, “You have money?”

“Yeah? Freelance tutoring, the newspaper runs I did, the lemonade debacle...”

Celeste's instinct activates and she stares at him with her sweet smile, one saved for when she is about to catch prey. “What lemonade debacle?”

Fern stiffens slightly, “Uhhhhh...” He turns around laughing sheepishly, avoiding her eye contact.

_Oh ho he won't be hiding this for long._

“Fern.....” She hums low and stern.

“Gonna go get the mail be right back...” He says quickly as he swiftly slips to the door, Celeste staring at him still wearing her sweet smile, her eyes narrowed at him as he escapes.

She lets her sweet smile pass into a unimpressed look as she glances up at Noctus, who grins at her, goofy as ever, “You know about this?”

She chirps, her high eerie laugh dancing around them beautifully, “Are you kidding? With a name like that, I wouldn't have been able to resist telling you.”

Celeste feels a genuine smile bloom on her, unbidden, “I suppose.” She looks back at the still closed door, pressing her lips together, but still smiling, “He won't be able to hide whatever it is now, he'll crack soon enough.”

Whatever Noctus is about to say is interrupted by Fern reentering, a confused and concerned look etched on his face.

She looks at him feeling an ebb of worry, “What is it dear?”

He holds up a large yellow parchment envelope, “Who the hell is Harry Potter?”

Celeste stare at him in clear confusion, so he comes closer and shows them the letter.

  
  


_Mr Harry Potter_

_Green Room on the Second Floor_

_937 Obscurus Crescent_

_Barrettetown_

_Surry_

Celeste reads the letter face a few more time, “Harry Potter? That name sounds familiar...”

She mulls over where she has seen it before and remembers seeing it on an old wizard style newspaper, but she saw said paper recently. She folds over when she last saw copy of old wizard news. She is subscribed to recent wizard news, The Daily Prophet, even if it is complete garbage 99% of the time, there is truth between the lines and names to remember, but the name she seeks now was not on a recent copy...

She is pulled from her thoughts by Fern handing the letter to Noctus who flips it over, her eyebrows quickly rising up her face. She leans over and shows Celeste, motioning at the bright red wax seal, depicting a crest with lion, snake, badger and raven, with an H in the centre.

_Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titllandus_

Her eyebrows raise as well, “That's the Hogwarts seal.”

Fern lets out an unsure hum and they look over at him “My room, our house, but not me.” He shrugs “What exactly do we do?”

Celeste looks at Noctus and they have a silent conversation.

_Is it?_

_I don't know. Maybe?_

_What do we do?_

_Can we even acceptance this?_

_I don't know...But..._

_What?_

_We could..._

_But should we?_

_Why Not?_

_Hm. Why not indeed..._

_Well?_

_Let him decide._

Celeste and Noctus look at Fern who patiently watches on, “...What.”

Noctus shrugs casually. “You could...be Harry Potter?”

He shifts a little “Uh...what if I'm not?

Celeste shrugs and slowly says, “Well, You could pretend to be?”

Fern stares at them, a little surprised, but also seriously considering it. Knowing your parents are not the most morally sound is one thing, witnessing it is another. Celeste decides this idea is unwise.

She speaks up again, “You're not comfortable with this idea. That's ok. We shouldn't have even suggested it.”

Noctus clicks into her wavelength and winces at the realization, “Yeah, sorry, Fern that was a bit cruel of us...”

Fern shakes his head quickly, “No, I was....considering it,” He takes a deep breath, “It wouldn't be fair to the real Harry Potter, if he's out there.” He shrugs with a self deprecating laugh, clearly a little crestfallen, “I don't think I could pull off identity theft anyway.”

Celeste's heart aches at her son's admission and wants nothing more than to make things right.

_He deserves great things, he deserves happiness, and I will give it to him._

She slips the letter from Noctus grip, posture straightened and worries smoothed.

“How about this,” She says gracefully, “I'll look into Harry Potter, I'll find out what I can, and I will reach out to Hogwarts to sort this mess out.”

Fern looks up sharply, eyes big, “Oh, no, I should-”

She interrupts him by leaning over and giving him a peck on the head, “It's too late dear, I'm invested.”

He huffs, looking away with a small sheepish smile and Noctus sweeps up scooping the two of them into a tight and leather smelling group hug. “We are all in this together!!” She crows.

Celeste giggles, straightening up and giving Noctus' hand a quick squeeze, simmering in her golden gaze before she turns away to ruffle Fern's hair.

“Hey...I still have an hour or so before I have to do my deliveries.” Noctus chuckles mischievously, “Wanna take your broom out for a quick spin?”

He lights up instantly “Yeah!?”

Noctus twirls away and bounds towards the back door, “Race Ya!”

Fern startles, snatching his broom from besides the front closet and sprinting after her, “Hey no fair!”

Celeste watches them out the back window, tumbling about and laughing as they delve into the forest past the fence, vanishing into the trees. She looks down at the letter in her hands and smooths her dress down, before turning back to the room at large, setting her mind on her goal.

_Harry Potter. Old Newspaper. Letter to Hogwarts._

After consideration, she takes a quick walk around the table, zoning in on the the front closet. She tosses it open and scans the interior; hanging is their varying worn down leather jackets, petticoats and knitted scarves, the shoe rack has only two pairs of well used shoes for each of them, and just behind that is a small alcove of hoarded items, contributed to the houses vortex of many things by Noctus. She can discern several odd items, a lamp with a floral and fish shade, a miniature grandfather clock, an obscure animal skull, and a small folded pile of newspaper. Celeste picks up the newspaper, once used as wrapping for Fern's first flying broom.

_I wished I had bought it for him myself....I will thank Agatha today._

She tosses the closet closed and spreads the news paper on the table looking it over. The news stories are from nearly ten years ago, paper yellowed with age and creased with time, sections had been rubbed out, but the ink still bled a faded black. There are no photos, all sections where pictures would be are nothing but empty space. She scans the sections quickly and finds the largest paragraph of interest.

**THE WAR IS OVER....BUT AT WHAT COST.**

By Wallace Biasman

  
  


Lord Voldemort is no more, having been banished late Halloween Night, his forces, the Death Eaters, are being round up by ministry aurors and sentenced to Azkaban for the attacks they carried out on Muggleborn and Halfblood Wizards. Many of the faces you see are prominent members of the sacred 28 pureblood families, and it makes us all wonder; how will the very valuable pureblood lines live on if many of them are behind bars? Several important families remain unscathed, evidence of ministry officials and nobles having been taken under the Impiruis Curse and forced into service. Lord Malfoy says, “It is an immense tragedy and trauma what me and many of my fellow ministry friends have gone through, I would not wish it on my worst enemies. I only hope we can rebuild our trust in the community and heal over time.” Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Cheif Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, meanwhile warns that is might not be over, cryptically saying “Rest easy with your families and friends, but do not grow complacent in times of peace. Always work to combat the things that lurk in the shadows of our world.” But can he be trusted? Although he says all is well, he has been very tight lipped about the whereabouts of the Boy Who Lived, the Vanquisher of the Dark Lord, the Kid with the Lightning Scar, who has seemingly vanished off the wizarding world map after the death of his parents and the banishing of the Dark Lord at Godric's Hollow. This reporter as well as men, women and children every where are wondering, where is Harry Potter...

  
  


Celeste gets a horrible sinking feeling in her gut. She had heard about Death Eaters and knew a little about the Dark Lord that reigned when her and Noctus first cruised into Surry. They had heard about the celebration of his vanquishing, but they didn't investigate how or what happened, it wasn't really their war after all, and at the time they were distracted by suddenly becoming mothers to a precocious baby boy...

_Uh oh_

They raised their son and lived primarily muggle, and their info on the British wizarding world was always on and off, as they cruised under the raider. It's actually not surprising they never heard about Harry Potter, the boy who lived, killed a dark lord and escaped with nothing but a lightning bolt scar, how do they even know about...

_UH OH_

Celeste closes her eyes and takes a deep fortifying breath, before she opens them again and smooths out her skirt. She carefully picks up and folds the news paper into a neat, symmetrical square before fetching her periwinkle blue purse, and slipping it inside. She looks over the still sealed letter and feels an ill twist in her stomach, before she tosses it in her purse as well, and sets it by the front door. She sits down and waits a few moments, as Noctus and Fern bound through the back door goofing around. She gets up and swiftly embraces them, soaking up the warmth and familiarity.

She looks at Noctus with a certain kind of tight smile.

_WE NEED TO TALK_

_Oh dear_

“I really need to get going.” Noctus says, smiling at Fern while looking at Celeste carefully.

_Please._

_SOON._

She smiles at her wife warmly and gives her a lingering kiss, before backing up and letting her on her way, Noctus skipping to the door with a song on her lips and a tinge of worry in her eyes.

Celeste looks down at Fern and feels a pang of constriction in her chest.

“Dear I need to go out for a short while and visit Old Miss Agatha. Are you okay being home alone?”

Fern looks at her curiously, “Is something wrong?”

_I trained him too well...._

“I'm not sure yet. I have discovered something, and unfortunately, It may be bad news.”

Fern swallows hard, “...Is it me?”

The tension in her chest tightens painfully at her sons doubt and worry.

“No dear. It's not you. It's fate I seems to have a beef with.”

He giggles despite himself and her sadness lessens.

“Fern,” He calms and stares up at her, “No matter what happens, I will never stop loving you and I will always be there.” She says it with the same firm conviction she has deep in her soul, the silver knives that flash behind her eyes.

Fern is seemingly struck by the intense genuineness of her words and nods to her, “I will never turn my back on you, and I will always be your son!” His voice is solid and filled with intensity.

Celeste pulls him into a tight nearly bone crushing hug resting her chin on his head. She lets the world outside turn without them, letting the small perfect moment stretch on into eternity.

“Ma..”

“Yes Fern.”

“You have to stop crushing me, I have to go pee.”

Celeste stifles her laughter as she lets him go, “Sorry dear.”

“It's fine.” He chuckles up at her, “Tell Agatha I say hi, yeah?”

“Watch something fun and eat lunch while I'm gone.”

“I'm gonna actually go outside and talk to the snakes. After lunch.”

“Okay, dear.” She pulls away hesitantly and grabs her purse by the door, “I'll be back before you know it.”

He waves to her as she sweeps out the door and closing it gently behind her.

She rests her forehead against the warm dark wood, listening to the subtle thrum of the houses shifting exterior.

_I want to go back inside and just curl up with my son and my wife, hiding me and my beautiful family away from this absurd world._

Instead she lifts her head, rolls her shoulders and starts down the street in a determined, posed stride. She focuses on the goal in front of her, newspaper and letter in her bag, and sliver in her eyes.

She doesn't stop in front of the Crescent Bookshop, instantly pushing her way inside, and ignoring the ever present closed sign. She stands tall in front of the door as it jingles shut, back straight and hands on her cocked hips. Old Miss Agatha looks up from the shop counter and pushes a cup of tea, already prepared and warm, towards her.

“You have questions.” Agatha creaks.

“You have answers.” She clucks back.

Old Miss Agatha nods and Celeste sweeps to the counter, snapping up the teacup with precision and grace, swirling the dark liquid inside, but not drinking it.

“Fern is Harry Potter.” She says blandly.

Agatha nods.

“My son is the one who killed the Dark Lord.”

She nods again.

“Nobody knows, but I, You and whomever is in charge of the Hogwarts admittance letter.”

Nod.

“But more will find out.”

Nod.

“And my son will be caught in the burning spotlight of being a child celebrity, one made by the death of his parents by the hands of a bunch of wizard Nazis.”

Nod.

“This is bullshit.”

Agatha lets out a surprised chortle, “Well you're not wrong.”

“How long have you known?”

“I was informed a few years ago. I saw it.” She waves her hand nonchalantly in the air to the casual mysticism of it all.

“Are you using my son?”

“For what? What could he offer me besides his welcome company, and the company of his parents?”

“Hm. Fair.” She predicts the tea is safe and sips it. “He says hi by the way.”

“How is he fairing with the new broom?”

“Oh he loves it.” She rolls her eyes, “Thank you by the way.”

“You're very welcome.” Agatha grins. “What will you do now?”

Celeste finishes her tea and clinks the teacup gently back into its unmatched saucer, before humming thoughtfully, “I'm going to tell my family what is going on, write a letter to Hogwarts, and burn anyone who dares cross me and the ones I love.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Agatha laughs wickedly “And drop by every once and a while, when you get the chance.”

Celeste pushes away from the counter and saunters to the door, “I would thank you for your honesty, but I have never heard breath a lie for as long as I've known you, so,” She looks back at Agatha as she pulls open the door, “Continue being trustworthy, I suppose.”

Agatha nods at her, her crooked cryptic self, “Give em Hell.”

Celeste tilts her head and smiles sweetly, “I will.”

She sweeps out on to the pavement, gown blowing behind her as she hurries home, game plan on her mind.

Next thing she knows she is storming up to the front door to her house and it opens automatically letting her breeze inside. She pauses at the scene before her.

“Hey Hon!” Noctus chirps, sitting on the floor and wearing several dozen excited snakes as they coil around her like lively jewellery, “We're bonding!”

“I can see that,” She laughs, “Where's Fern?”

Fern walks in, holding a bundle of writhing garden snakes and looks up, “What's up?”

“Serious conversation Incoming,” Celeste hums, disappointed to ruin the fun, “The snakes should go back outside.

Fern sighs dramatically, and turns around to put the snakes away, Noctus getting up gingerly following after. Celeste whips out the letter and newspapers slapping them on the table.

Noctus saunters back in and Celeste smiles at her, “Your home early.”

“I rushed the deliveries” She shrugs “Seems like more importation stuff is going on.”

Celeste snorts, “Indeed.”

Fern enters, dusting off his hands, he looks at the newspaper, “Isn't this the gift wrapping for my broom?”

Celeste nods and presses her lips together seriously, “I have reason to believe, Fern, that you are Harry Potter.”

He nods slowly, taking in her stern look, “That is...good?”

Celeste looks at Noctus. “Darling?” Noctus looks up with a meow like sound, “What do you know about Harry Potter?”

Noctus shrugs, “Not much. Why? He famous?”

“Harry Potter vanquished the Dark Lord Voldemort.” Celeste nods, “When he was one.”

Noctus absorbs this by blinking her eyes wide, “Well shoot that is pretty crazy.”

“He vanquished the Dark Lord on Halloween, when he attacked and killed the boy's parents.” Celeste lets the info sink in, “We found Fern early morning on November first...”

Noctus stares at her for a solid minute before letting out an “Oh!” and then a softer more wary, “Oh....”

Fern shakes his head, “It's barely noon, how did you discover all this?!”

Celeste waves at the newspaper, “The evidence was just a logical chain of coincidence away, and Agatha has had insider info for a while.” She pushes off the table and flicks her hair. “I have confirmed the information with her, but.” She huffs, “I am not completely certain. The evidence is here, but it could be an error...” She trails off, knowing the evidence makes too much sense.

Fern combs over the newspaper, kneeling on the chair to stare down at it.

He lets out a soft, “Shit.”

Celeste rolls her eyes, “Fern, language.”

He sits back on his legs, “Okay. I'm going to need to process this.” He takes a deep breath, “I'm most likely a famous wizard, who killed a Dark Lord before I could even form memories, who had killed my parents and countless others, and you guys found me by accident and raised me as you're own, but now if I want to go to magic school, I have to be the famous wizard for things I can't remember and don't want to think about.” He pauses, “I've made my decisions.”

Noctus startles, “Already?”

“I don't want to be Harry Potter.” He says bluntly. “That's not me.”

Celeste nods, “Yes, I supposed you might come to this conclusion.”

Fern frowns, “But...this is not something I can run from, is it...”

“If you want to, we will try,” Celeste looks at him feeling a tight pang in her chest, “But no, I do not think this is something we can run from.”

Fern presses his lips together. “I have to go to Hogwarts. But I want to go as myself.”

Noctus shrugs, “So be it. I'll fist fight anyone who tells you otherwise.”

“You can use magic Mum.”

“I know, but I will fist fight them to make a point.”

Celeste smiles at her before turning back to the table, “Worry not, that won't be necessary.” Noctus deflates a little, and Celeste continues, “You will always be Fern McJones, and we don't need to fight the wizarding world, or Hogwarts on that fact. We are going to make it, on our own means. I have experience in the game that were are about to partake in and we have new cards in our deck that we can use.” Noctus relights at the term game and she grins “Our lives are about to become very interesting. Whatever we do, we will do it together, but I ask you let me lead the charge. Fern?” He looks up at her, having been staring off out the window for a while and she holds up the letter, “It will always be your final call what we do. So what do you say?” She looks at him warmly and with meaning. “Do you want to play?”

Fern looks at the letter for a long minute, before looking at Celeste and Noctus, adjusting his glasses as a small determined smile creeps up on his lips.

“Yeah.” He says, softly nodding as he grins a little wider, “Lets do this.”

Celeste glows at her son with pride and gently rubs the letter parchment in her fingers, “It seems I have a letter to write.”


	5. Snape, Interrupted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus Snape has concerns, goes on a trip down memory lane and learns a lot of startling information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is Welcome.  
> Tell me what you think about how I handled the trip down memory lane.

The years of his life sink into his bones like snake venom, pain long since banished to the tension of the side effects yet to come and constant redressing of wounds long since scabbed over. Needless to say, Severus Snape, Potions Master and Professor at Hogwarts, is actually doing surprisingly well. Which in turn is unnervingly suspicious as things never go his way, so something is clearly about to go wrong.

He stares at the large old wooden door to the Headmaster Office. He has been standing here for a minute at least, summoning the care and courage to start the meeting with Dumbledore. Ironic, since he was the one who called the meeting initially, he has concerns and a lot of questions. He's still staring at the door, trying to burn a hole through it with his gaze alone, and he wonders if this meeting is going to be with Headmaster Dumbledore, the grandfatherly Chief Warlock whose given him second, third and fourth chances he doesn't deserve or Albus Dumbledore, the conniving old bastard that inevitably makes his life 100x more difficult, most likely on purpose. He takes a deep fortifying breath and gives a sharp rap on the door. One only needed to accidentally barge in on Dumbledore and Slughorn “Naked Time” once to never make that mistake ever again.

“Enter.” Hums the warm voice inside.

Snape shoves open the door violently, cloak billowing around him as he strides up to the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore looks away from the small butterfly terrarium hanging at about eye level, the purple butterfly inside sunning itself daintily, and his eyes twinkle as he greets Snape with a smile.

_Oh it is going to be one of those meetings._

He slips on Sneer #23, Not in the Mood to Deal with This, and gets down to business.

“I don't like it.”

“Don't like what, my boy?”

Snape glares at him, “You want to store a very powerful artifact, behind a series of dangerous traps, from an unknown danger, in a school full of children.”

Dumbledore smiles at him benignly, “Hogwarts is the safest place in the world. I will warn them all about it at the beginning of the year.”

Snape lets the dead air between them stretch on for far too long.

“And?” He slams his hands on the desk and leans forward to make his point more urgent, his long black hair falling in his face, “They are CHILDREN, they're idiots! telling them to stay away from the third floor corridor is going to be like a giant blinking sign over it. They'll start trying to sneak up there before class even starts.”

Dumbledore doesn't flinch at Snape's outburst, he simple waves his hand and a nice floral tea set appears on his desk. “You have such little faith in them, my boy.”

Snap growls “Within good reason.”

“The door will be locked, and the wards will alert you and me if any students enter the forbidden corridor.” He opens his mouth to bite back and Dumbledore interrupts him a stern tone, “That is my final word, Severus.”

Snape pauses, analyzing the colder look Dumbledore is giving him. He cannot peer through the glittering wards behind his eyes and decides it unwise to push the issue. He shoves away from the desk with a huff, and settles into the worn arm chair nearby, continuing to frown fiercely.

“I have also come to ask for the Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching position.”

Dumbledore's cool demeanour melts away as he takes a long sip of his tea, and gently places it down, before smiling at him warmly.

“No.”

Snape lets out and exasperated groan and Dumbledore continues jovially. “My boy, do you still doubt the curse on the teaching position?”

Snape shifts forward to snap a remark but is interrupted by the fireplace in the office flaring up with green light. Dumbledore places down the teapot, having just poured a cup for Snape and excuses himself to answer the call, leaving Snape to stew in his own thoughts, and try to listen in on the muffled murmurers as Dumbledore sticks his head into the green flames. Snape loses interest in failing to eavesdrop and picks up the teacup, staring into the dark swirling tea leaves, he wanders into the back of his mind, pondering.

His first year, he of course asked and was in turn, enraged, when Dumbledore refused to give him the DADA position, but he was far too busy with other things to really dwell on the refusal or who the professor replacing him in the position was. He had to write teaching schedules for all the Potions Classes as Slughorn had not updated anything in years, the old, lazy, waste of air he was and Snape had to do so in between helping Sirius and Regulus kidnap Remus Lupin so Sirius could convince him he was in fact not a murderer or secret Death eater. Snape did have fun asking Sirius questions while he was under Veritaserum until Regulus and Lupin forced him to stop. While back at Hogwarts he did a ton of research and work on safety measures in the potions lab, again something neglected by his slackass predecessor, while he and the night group also tried to discover a safe place to store the Salazar Slytherin Locket and Tom Riddle's Diary, recently retrieved from Malfoy Manor. At school he had to learn how to teach children, which reaffirmed his hatred for the spawn, while having to deal with different kind of immaturity after work, preventing his small group of Horcrux hunters from ripping each other apart with the aid of Regulus, although he was also the one who started many of these fights. He had to face and work adjacent the prejudice and bias against the Slytherins, which he inherited as their new Head of House, but he quickly found handling it as a student was not the same as handling it as a teacher. Combining his efforts with Lucius and Regulus, they rewrote the Slytherin handbook, and he learned tactics for handling the kids he was directly responsible for. Part of this was putting the fear of himself into unruly students, making a single hand attempt to cease all bullying by being the ultimate bad guy. He managed to press information out of Sirius and Lupin about their tactics back from their school days, allowing him to get ahead of the curve against the future generation. He ended up using the last of his patience to act tolerable towards his fellow staff members as being a previous Death Eater made other teachers weary to interact with him. Regulus taught him some hints in keeping his calm and Lucius explained how he managed to liqueur up and squeeze info out of Slughorn about Horcrux creation after a whole year of careful planning and patience, if he could show restraint, so could you.

By the end of the year, sweating over how they had info but no new Horcruxes yet, Snape was surprised when Dumbledore made an announcement about the DADA professor being sent to St. Mungo's. He had apparently been cursed before he started teaching that year and had been slowly vanishing from peoples minds over time, to the point students stopped going to his class because they just didn't think they had class at all. Snape snorted at this, and then realized no matter how hard he tried he could not remember the man's name and face or even one time they interacted, which was impossible because he must have met him at the beginning of the year staff meeting. Meanwhile, Dumbledore realized he didn't remember who he is talking about, and ended the staff meeting early. When he told the Midnight Masters, the finally decided upon name to his after hours group, he was surprised to find both Sirius and Lucius actually agreed on something, saying that such a fate was worse than death. Meanwhile him, Regulus and Lupin strangely, all argued that such a curse could be extremely useful and even relaxing if handled correctly. The next day Quirinus Quirrell happened to be in the DADA classroom looking for a book he didn't know he had lent, and when students showed up looking for their class, he put his degree to work and became the DADA professor for the rest of the year. Snape considered he should keep a closer eye on the DADA professors and position.

He hated being turned down in his second year even more than the first, if only because the man replacing him was so annoying. Professor Katching Mola was a opportunist, and a lazy opportunist at that, who had found his calling in mentoring the soon to be graduating headache student, Gildroy Lockhart. Snape avoided them, frankly, he thought they deserved each other, and yet he heard about all their damned and dangerous schemes and scams as he was called by Madam Pomfrey the Mediwitch nearly every week to brew some very specific potion for the fallout of the disastrous duo's attempts to get rich and famous. Students got their clothes stuck on the walls and ceiling, some had their faces erased, a mass of students could suddenly only see in the colour magenta, three different girls had their hair turn into exotic birds, countless students got poisoned or sick, and one Quidditch match ended in chaos as Lockhart fired an equivalent of a Dark Mark into the air, similarly used in Death Eater raids, only it was a giant floating image of his face. The only real solace about the cycling chaos was somehow, no matter what, Professor Mola was always caught in the crossfire, allowing Snape to stand nearby and gleefully listen as the lovely Poppy Pomfrey tore Mola to pieces at his base character.

Outside of that he was busy with the Midnight Masters, gathering clues on what the Horcruxes could be and where they could be. They swiftly compiled places the previous Dark Lord thought were important and would most likely hide things; the orphanage he grew up in, Hogwarts, the dilapidated Gaunt Home, etcetera, as well as people he would entrust the items too. They finally figured the scheme of items as well; most likely if he made one Hogwarts Founder Relic a Horcrux, like the Locket, he'll have targeted the others as well, and any other soul objects were most likely to be items of importance to him like the Diary. They still didn't find any Horcruxes, and the year ended peacefully enough, Mola retiring to help Lockhart jump start his hair care line, to the immense relief of the staff and students alike. Oddly, Snape had heard Lockhart was now an accomplished adventurer and author, but Mola had seemingly vanished without a trace.

In his third year he asked for the position again and again it was given to someone else, this time to Professor Phobias Fearly, a giant, muscular built and terrifying woman. Not that Snape would ever admit it. He worked for the Dark Lord, he could totally work with someone who looked like she could snap him in half with a wayward thought and always had her jaw clenched like she was about to murder the five to ten people nearest to her at all times. Needless to say he kept his distance whilst still keeping a very close eye on her, but he never could get into her head, as she always avoided his eyesight. Despite her horror seeped aura, she never caused any trouble and her classes were well liked. It was rather unfortunate she ended her tenure early. She vanished from her station chaperoning students at Hogsmead and was found by a fellow professor hiding in the Shrieking Shake, having spiralled into a mental breakdown. She finally admitted she had an almost crippling fear of children and teenagers, but didn't want to disappoint Dumbledore, so she planned to brute force her way through a year of teaching and just retire at the end. She was sent to St. Mungos to recuperate. Snape wasn't there when it happened, after all she was covering his shift chaperoning.

He had been alerted by Regulus earlier that day, who was visiting places of interest, and he thought he'd finally found a place hiding a Horcrux. Snape arrived at the location, soon followed by Lucius and they all took in the decaying corpse that was the House Gaunt, trapped and warded to the teeth, despite being dilapidated and abandon for many years. Snape wasn't sure he wanted to know, but Regulus explained anyway.

“Our Dark Lord, Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, was a halfblood. Born from the Gaunt line and an unknown muggle, whose soul he most likely used to make a Horcrux.”

They start stripping the wards together without another word, looking for any strange magic signatures, and wandering carefully around the dangerous terrain until they uncovered a gold box, buried beneath the sagging floorboards. They barely got it out of the house before Lupin and Sirius stormed up, incensed at being omitted from the hunt. The argument that broke out between them was one of many, secrets kept and unspoken problems, wands were drawn and the past was dredged up again. The escalation of another possible argument turned fist fight was suddenly ended when Lucius, purposely ignoring the surrounding affair, succeeded in unsealing and opening the box.

Inside was a gold ring with a large carved black stone embedded in it and Snape needed it. He didn't know why, but all he knew was he needed that ring more than anything. He instantly fired off a shot to shove Lucius away from the box and all hell broke loose. They fired on each other in a cascade of spells both dark and light each fighting the other desperately with the sole ideation of claiming the ring for themselves. In the sweep of battle, Lucius nearly Curioed him and he disarmed and took out him, Regulus and Lupin with a swift series of his own homemade spells, before realizing Sirius was missing. Then the desperation in him was suddenly broken, and Snape reeled with a cold sinking in his gut and a pounding headache behind his eyes. He looked around in confusion, and spotted a large black dog with it's paw on the now closed golden box. Sirius turned back into his human form and stared at them wide eyed.

No one spoke a word to each other as they resealed the box and brought it with them back to Regulus covert home, the supposedly abandon Grimmald Place, once home of the Black family, now just Regulus presumed dead and his grouchy house-elf Kreacher.

He was the first one to speak after nearly two hours of pure silence, “We...are going to keep each other in the loop, and we need to store these...things...somewhere away from people.”

Lucius nodded, “I'll deal with it.”

He didn't remember the rest of the night, Sirius and Lupin quickly hid away in Sirius old room, Regulus vanished in to his study and Snape collapsed into the dusty bed of some random guest room with Lucius not far behind. When he returned the next day to find Quirrell was the substitute in DADA again, he wasn't even mad. He went to McGonagall to find out what happened to Fearly, as despite their house rivalry and his past, Minerva never failed to treat him like a person. She did relentlessly smirk at him when she revealed Fearly apparently had a crush on him, but he paid it no mind. He really did not have time for that sort of thing.

He nearly forgot to ask Dumbledore about the DADA position as his fourth year encroached on him, but he did not in fact, forget. The replacement that took the position was Professor Marrinum Inkit, a fairly friendly man whose sole personality trait was how much he loved marine life. It didn't take long before several of his house students complained about the Professor Inkit teaching class outside by the Black Lake so he could flirt with the Giant Squid. He told them to just ignore it, he was not interested in interfering with this new bizarre problem, as he was designing a plan to kidnap and test the Gryffindor Sword, and also find the Ravenclaw Diadem, an artifact that was lost several hundreds years ago. He was competing with Lucius who had managed to find and later retrieve the Hufflepuff Cup, which had been handed to Black family pride and joy, the Death Eater that encapsulated crazy, Bellatrix Lestrange. It was in the Lestrange vault, but both Bellatrix and her husband are in prison, so the surviving non criminal or dead Black that could retrieve it, was Narcissa Malfoy. The worries about involving her were put to rest easily, as she went along with Lucius subtle pleas for aid with no questions asked, much to their relief and slight confusion.

Eventually, Snape successfully stole the sword from the castle, at the time the school body was distracted by Professor Inkit being nearly eaten by the giant squid as he tried to consummate his love to it. The sword was not a Horcrux and Snape returned it to the Headmaster's office while Dumbledore was away visiting Inkit at St. Mungo's. He endured Lucius being dramatic and smarmy about getting a Horcrux nearly all by himself, with his wife's help, in begrudging silence, and he didn't even notice Quirrell take the DADA position again, as he was too busy stewing, and helping Regulus, Sirius and Lupin scratch the last locations off the hunt list.

His fifth year practically snuck up on him, his life becoming a routine of searching and finding nothing with the Midnight Masters, encountering dead end after dead end. He still asked about the DADA position, and when refused, he didn't even bat an eye, just swept away with a mild huff. The new DADA professor was Warnstern Hazzar, who spoke dryer then sawdust and was denser than a sack of bricks. Being a fairly appalling teacher aside, he somehow failed to understand the basic rules of the school. He mismanaged and was as such injured by the Womping Willow, the Moving Staircases, Peeves the Poltergeist and the Forbidden Forest, all in the first week class. Snape ended up busying himself making lots of healing soaked bandages, searching the castle relentlessly and attempting to learn more about the castle secrets by making conversation with the Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, who is a wholly crude and feral man, yet both that year and the years after, the two of them had many a pleasant unpleasant conversations over tea and biscuits.

Prof Hazzar did not show up for class one day and Snape was finally allowed to teach DADA as Quirrell was out of country. He greatly enjoyed his small tenure as the Professor of Defence before Hazzar was found again, by Snape no less. Storming along the seventh floor corridor looking for a place to pace in peace, he had settled for wearing a trench in floor in front of a tapestry of trolls doing ballet. He stewed about where he had not looked and where the Diadem might be, only for a door to appear in the wall. He hesitated, and then ran several cautious tests on the newly formed door before entering carefully, finding a room piled high with objects and items, towering around in uneven shelves and piles. He spied the Diadem, the lost Ravenclaw Diadem, sitting on a head bust of Ramona Ravenclaw, on a table just a few steps inside the door, with no traps or wards obstructing it. After another series of precaution spells and the absolute certainty there was no tricks, he wandered inside and plucked the legendary lost object off the bust with no fan fare. He found his purple knit mitts he had lost during his sixth year on the table as well. He also found Professor Hazzar, hiding in a cupboard, bedraggled and with a haunted look in his eyes, muttering furiously about a large snake in the school's plumbing. Snape coerced him out of the room and made a note to return to this bizarre place on a later date when he had the time, and with the lost artifact and his re-found mitts hidden in his cloak, he felt pretty positive for once. He reveled in Sirius' and Lucius' gobsmacked expressions as he explained how he found an ancient lost artifact turned Horcrux, and it was his turn to be smug. He didn't even notice Hazzar was sent to St. Mungo's or that the returned Quirrell taught DADA for the rest of the year, again.

He was back to brooding when his sixth year arrived. He didn't even register getting turned down for the DADA position yet again, because he was busy wallowing in the stagnate pit that the Horcrux hunt had become. Right after he found the Diadem the entire operation ground to a halt; all places listed were scratched off, all possible items were cleared as safe, and they found themselves all sitting in his living room staring at his uneven dusty floor, wondering. They decided to continue researching, specifically to destroy the collected items, but agreed to only meet once a month and in case of emergencies.

Professor Hadrianna Howle was a haggard looking strict woman who had a voice like nails on a chalkboard and a screech that could shatter glass. Since the Hogwart's library was dry of all information on Horcruxes, Snape ended up elbow deep in making magic earplugs for his tormented Slyterins, and revolutionizing potions work dedicated to Anti-Defening to help Pomfrey with the great number of students with ringing ears, and sudden deafness. He wrote a paper on it for a reputable Potions Journal under the pseudonym Princely Posthaste. He also found that over time, the distance between him and the other teachers had slowly shrunk away, although he only realized it when Filius Flitwick invited him to the secret poker game he and a bunch of the teachers played together during certain late nights over the holidays.

Howle left after one year of teaching, having to leave the country to explore the possible banshee blood that might be linked in her ancient ancestors. Snape wasn't even surprised, just annoyed and he told the Midnight Masters so at the meeting that night. Sirius laughed like a hound and Lucius stifled a chuckle, and he loathed that somehow, the two of them tended to agree on strange things. Lupin acted sympathetic, but got a sneaky gleam in his eyes as he suggested he and Sirius should look into creature rights, and Regulus turned them down at first, but suddenly changed his mind when Snape suggested looking into House-elf rights as well, just to annoy Lucius. They still had no idea how to destroy the Horcruxes.

Year seven was something akin to a cruel joke. The hunt stagnation had the group talking about less and less relevant things at their monthly meetings, but Snape found he actually didn't mind, it was once a month and they listened to him complain about being denied the DADA position again. It wasn't entirely Dumbledore's decision this time, the Ministry of Magic, specifically the School Board, were getting frustrated with the lack of long term professors and decided they could pick better than the Headmaster, inserting themselves by hiring a ministry official, Tantitalus Parvin, as the new DADA professor. The man was easygoing, humorous and had Occulmency wards Snape could not look through at a glance, but his suspicion was only raised when Lucius heard the name at the Midnight Masters meeting and instantly suggested he had to look into something. Snape's suspicions began to steepen when one of his Slytherin's, a third year girl, confided in him that Parvin had asked her after class, alone, on several occasions. Nothing unwarranted had yet happened, as she had followed the Slytherin code and brought her hallway buddy with her, but something about the whole situation felt off. He reaffirmed to his Slytherins to never travel alone, and added the new suggestion of never meeting a teacher alone either. He then got called to an emergency Midnight Masters' meeting, the first one they had ever called. He could still feel the pitch black rage that was summoned in him as he stared at Lucius, whose own face was drawn and blank, as he told them what he found. Parvin had a wretched track record, specifically with minors, but all of his heinous crimes were covered up by his department to protect his blood pedigree, and then a bunch of clueless School Board busybodies gave him an opportunity to work in a school, full of children. Snape had initially thought nothing of Dumbledore telling the students the importance of the buddy system at the beginning of the year feast, or how they could trust talking to their house heads about odd situations, but now it made too much sense. Lucius confirmed Dumbledore had made several moves to expedite Parvin from his position, but he was being blocked by many familiar faces, at least to Malfoy. Snape had seen six years of DADA professors come and go, and this time, he was going to be at the forefront of this years inevitable exit. The Midnight Masters grimly agreed.

The next day, it was seen as sheer coincidence that Filus Flitwick and Severus Snape decided to change the location of there regular scheduled Duelling Club meeting. It was also assumed to be chance that Parvin had gotten attacked and chased by a large black dog that had found it's way onto the school grounds, running him into the area where the Snape and Filus were doing a demonstration with students following along, before the large beast suddenly raced back into the Forbidden Forest. At the wrong place at the wrong time, Parvin was hit by a wild spell launched from the Duelling Club. Filus, Snape and all the students present had no idea who fired it and after Snape went to get get the Headmaster, getting conveniently lost only three times on the way, Parvin was raced to St. Mungo's. The damage that was done had St. Mungo's Hospital staff mortified as they could do nothing to combat the horribly vile, painful and totally unique dark curse that was now leeching on the ex teachers private parts. The School Board was upset, and with no one to shift blame on to the Dulling Club was disbanded. No one had anything more to say when a mysterious figure broke into Parvin's hospital room late one night and made him disappear, conveniently on the same night when Regulus showed up late to their regularly scheduled meeting. At that same meeting, Lucius announced he was running to get on the school board and then dramatically listed off the names and addresses of several different ministry members who were behind the cover up to Parvin's many crimes. Sirius also loudly complained about how awful rotten meat tasted and how bad it was for werewolves, as Lupin smirked in a way that meant he knew too much. Snape drank his tea as he listened to the conversation, and expertly marked all the DADA work he was helping Quirrell deal with.

When he heard that Dumbledore was back to finding his own DADA professor to replace the position, he almost didn't ask, but his pride won out and he was predictably turned down, yet again. The replacement was suspiciously normal, Professor Joey Joaniper, a short and fast talking woman with boundless energy. Having some time on his hands in between being a competent teacher, being further dragged into the Malfoy family dynamic, gossiping with the teachers, learning about the lack of progress with the Midnight Masters as well as all the personal problems they want to vent, and dramatically improving the alchemy circuit with his genius, he decided to look into Professor Joaniper in an effort to catch any bad news before it took a worse turn. He learned with surprising clarity half way through the year, that Joaniper, wasn't a witch. She couldn't uses magic at all, and yet had still found her way to Hogwarts, still knew quiet a lot and was still successfully teaching DADA, even if she implemented a strange new section about physical self defence. He thought to tell someone, but instead decided he was content to wait and see who else figured it out. Minerva figured it out first, right after he did, Regulus figured it out soon after, although he didn't say how and Dumbledore knew the whole time. Everyone else finally found out when she came forward at the end of year feast. Dumbledore wanted to keep her on the staff, but the Ministry wrangled the School Board to refuse, so he gave her a good recommendation to a public magic school in Canada. At the Midnight Masters' meeting, Lucius, having been accepted to the School Board starting next year, stared at him, his expression crossed between offended and impressed as Snape let the story sink in and the facts of the past year stew. Lucius suddenly recovered with a flick of his platinum hair, and announced he was impressed, she showed skill for a non magical person. This announcement left the rest of them in dumbfounded shock and that particular memory won itself a place on the shelf of honour in his Occlumency space, where Snape stores his favourite memories.

Now that he thought about it, he never heard what happened to last years DADA professor Fiently Fitz. The only explanation he got to the vanishing of the most recent replacement was from Flitwick.

“He ran off with the fairies,” The incredibly short man said, grinning with wicked humour. Snape suddenly decided he didn't want to know.

Out of distracting memories to peruse, he stares at the drying tea leaves at the bottom of his now empty teacup. The larger smudge looks like a skull and underneath it is a longer smudge that looks like a cross. He reevaluates and re-solidifies his hatred for Divination and glances over at the Headmaster as emerges from the fireplace.

Dumbledore dusts the soot off his beard, “Sorry about that my boy. Flamel was asking about when I'm planning to move the stone...”

“It's fine.” He waves his hand dismissively, “I agree with your sentiment about the DADA position by the way, but I felt it only fair to ask anyway. For traditions sake.”

“Since when have you cared for tradition?”

“Since Lucius said I should try having more fun from time to time.”

“He is right about that.” Dumbledore settles back into his seat with a pleased hum. “Are you planning to celebrate your tenth anniversary teaching this year?

“No.” Snape puts his saucer back down on the Headmaster's desk harder than necessary, “But I imagine you and the staff will force me to celebrate anyway.”

Dumbledore puts his hand over his heart and acts dramatically sad, “It's an important milestone, my boy! How could you not celebrate?”

“Watch Me.” He said easily, before swiftly changing the subject, “Potter starts this year, yes?”

Those damned blue eyes sparkled madly, “I'm surprised you were keeping track.”

“I'm not.” He snaps, completely honest. His plan was to omit the Boy-Who-Lived out of his mind until he was forced to interact, but Sirius was dedicated and relentless, so here he is, “How is the boy?”

“Safe and happy.” He answers simply, no elaboration as usual and much to Snape's chagrin.

He is forced to continue the line of questioning through nearly gritted teeth. “Well? Has he received his-”

The castle shifting slam of the door to the Headmaster's office being rammed open with force of a thousand suns, makes Snape nearly jump out of his skin. He turns around to shout at whomever it is, but is instantly silenced by Minerva McGonagall standing there in the doorway, back straight, grey hair still in a smoothed neat bun and a look of rage in her green eyes that makes him instinctual shrink back, despite the fact she is solely zoned in on Dumbledore. She storms past him in two quick furious strides and stares down on the Headmaster with hellfire fury.

He smiles up at her calmly, “Hello Minerva. How are you this fine day?”

She slams a letter onto his desk with enough force the desk slides a little, and all the teacups bounce to the floor, shattering upon impact.

“EXPLAIN.” She snaps, her voice dangerous.

He doesn't even look at the letter, “I'm afraid I do not understand why you are upset-”

She cuts him off violently, “TEN YEARS. For ten years I worried and fussed over leaving Harry Potter with Petunia Dursley and those muggles, and yet NOW, ten years later I receive THIS,” She jabs her finger angrily at letter to emphasis her point, “and discover the boy has been with someone completely different the WHOLE TIME.”

Snape is reeling at the sudden influx of information and can only gain awareness enough to shout “You left him with PETUNIA????”

Dumbledore holds up his hand solemnly to cease anymore interruptions and continues smoothly, “She was the only one able to solidify the blood wards Lily had made.” He lets out a sigh, and for a moment he looks every year as old as he is, “I thought it was the only way to keep him safe, but I was proven wrong soon after.” He returns to form with a huff of mirth, “He vanished after we left him, and I was able to find out he was safe, but I was never able to reach him...and that was, perhaps, for the best.” He looks up at them simmering back into his benign self, “Are you alright, my boy?”

_Alright is not the term I would use._

He stands up and approaches the desk with a slow but meaningful glide, “I am so angry I am beyond coherent thought.” He hisses his next words so his voice won't shake, “and I am NOT your boy.”

McGonagall doesn't acknowledge him, focusing solely on controlling her own rage. “YOU...you....”

Snape stops paying attention as she starts into a prolonged tirade, as his attention is drawn to the letter, sealed in a mostly blank muggle envelop, the address on the front written in tall elegant print.

He motions at it, “May I?”

“Here.” She hands it to him without looking away from Dumbledore, who is accepting her ire with infuriatingly calm grace, “Back to YOU....”

He turns the light letter over in his hand and slips it out of the envelop, seeing it's written on lined non magic paper. He looks it over.

  
  


_To whom it may concern_

_There seems to have been an error made in the sending of this Hogwarts' Admission Letter. Although the address is correct and I do have a magic inclined son of age to attend Hogwarts, the name on the letter is not his, and we fear another young promising future student may miss their opportunity. I hope we can solve this problem in a quick and easy manner, but I also recognize some part of this accident, may not be an accident at all. I invite you to come visit my home so we can discuss the possible ramifications of the misplaced letter, or other ramifications if the letter is not in fact, misplaced. My address is the same as on the returned admission letter, and I am hoping we can meet soon. Would 2:00pm on the day after tomorrow be alright? Please write back to confirm as soon as you are available._

_Many Thanks_

_Celeste McJones_

  
  


“AND I will be the one cleaning up this mess now, NOT YOU.”

Snape folds the letter shut with an almost audible snap, “I would like to go with you.”

“I-what?” Her ire evaporates as she looks at him in genuine surprise.

“You're going to visit them, yes?” He holds the letter out to her, face emotionless, “I'm going with you.”

“I...” She hesitates, turning to him fully to take the letter, “Are you sure? It won't be easy...”

He talks over her, rolling his eyes aggressively, “I am an adult Minerva, I can handle myself.” He says this despite the fact he can practically see Regulus shaking his head at him.

He gives a cool shrug, “I'm not busy the day after tomorrow anyway”

Minerva swipes away her surprise and straightens herself to full height, still shorter than him by an inch at least, “Walk with me Severus.” She turns and gives a stern look down at Dumbledore, “Headmaster.” He smiles at them and nods calmly, “This isn't over.”

She spins away from them and stalks off, Snape pausing to stare at Dumbledore as he opens the terrarium and allows the purple butterfly to crawl out on his hand. The Headmaster glances up at him with a wink, eyes twinkling madly, and for a moment Snape almost believes that maybe, all this nonsense is a part of the greater plan. He quickly looks away and storms after McGonagall, cape dramatically billowing behind him as he goes.

He is so caught up in the new information he has learned, reeling behind his calm façade as he walks briskly down the hall with McGonagall towards the owlery, it takes him a few moments too long to realize he is going to be meeting Harry Potter in a few days. The son of his worst enemy. The baby who killed the Dark Lord. The only thing left of his lost friend.

_Hm. I'll be ready when the time comes._


	6. Just McJones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape and McGonagall visit the McJones home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcome!

_I am NOT READY._

The thought is looping around inside his head like a possessed Merry-Go-Round and yet he still walks beside McGonagall like nothing could possibly bother him. He's spent so long avoiding this one particularly delicate problem he has no idea how he is supposed to react now that he suddenly has to face it. He won't back down either, to do so would be cowardly, and of the many bad traits he possess, cowardice is not one of them.

McGonagall gives him a searching look as they continue along the overgrown forest path, as if reading his blank expression.

“You don't have to-”

“This is not up for debate.” He growls back.

He sees her roll her eyes with a fond sigh as they wander out of the overgrown forest and onto the nearby street.

The small crescent is empty in the hot warm sun, lined with small and neat little houses with crooked uneven white fences and cracked slanted concrete driveways. Although not nearly as dilapidated as the street he calls home, the surrounding street had seen better days, and was slowly being washed away with neglect as Barrettetown and the areas wherein were forgotten to time. He frowns as they wander past all the look a like faded homes and he doesn't recognize which house is the one they were looking for. He reads the signs on the mailboxes and they finally find 937.

It is a perfectly ordinary house.

_Except no, no it isn't._

He blinks as he takes in the weird towering structure made of dark carved wood and needlepoint decorated canvas, and feels it is perfectly normal, not in a magic way but in the way someone reacts to seeing something they see everyday in their life, like a picture hanging in their house or a bus stop always in the same location, something so consistently ingrained your brain, it doesn't really register at all. That is what the house looked like, somehow.

He tears his eyes away to look at McGonagall who looks back at him.

“What a nice ordinary house.” She says, while looking incredibly confused.

“Yes it is.” He confirms to his own horror.

They both let out an involuntary shudder, as if shaking an eerie feeling, and suddenly the overwhelmingly ordinary aura around the house dissipates in their minds.

The dark wood front door swings open on it's own and a tall, thin woman steps out, gliding towards them gracefully. She is wearing a ankle length deep blue dress, most akin to a seasoned housewife, and her shimmery black hair is entwined in a long sleek braid with not a hair out of place. She smiles at them as she approaches smoothly, and Snape locks his eyes with her murky green ones, but cannot see into her mind, rebuffed by a flash of liquid silver.

_She has an Occulmrncy Ward?_

He attempts to press into gaze and she responds by continuing to stare him down and acts coolly.

“Good Afternoon!” She greets them warmly with a sweet smile, “Celeste McJones, at your service.” She offers a hand to them.

Snape doesn't break eye contact, and nudges a little into her mind, and is met by a wall of molten roiling silver.

She doesn't break eye contact with him until McGonagall speaks to address her, shaking her hand “Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, this is my fellow teacher, Potions Master Severus Snape.”

She smiles at McGonagall and clasps her hands warmly.

“Charmed.” He sneers at her, despite McGonagall shooting him a slightly stern look.

“I'm sure.” Celeste says pleasantly, retracting her hand before he can ignore it and motioning them to the house, “Please come in!”

He sweeps after her, accepting McGonagall's subtle warning look with a slight raise of his eyebrows.

He glances around as he passes into the threshold frowning at the great variety of mismatched furniture. The main table was plain rectangular wood with odd twisted legs like branches ending in claws, and all the chairs around it were completely different from one another. There was a blue and white plastic lawn chair, a cushioned red velvet stool, a carved light wood chair covered in coloured scuff marks, and a fold-able steel chair with an obscure emblem carved on the seat. The rest of the home followed suit; a retro red refrigerator, a sleek steel electric kettle, three couches of various time periods and wear an tear, a wall covered in various wires, screens and electronics all coupled and entangled together in a horrendous mass, varying paintings, potted plants, and strange decorations, all unrelated to each other, a modern sliding closet and a set of crooked steps leading up somewhere.

“You have a lovely home.” McGonagall speaks before he can say anything snide.

He plays it cool. “It was surprising hard to find.”

Celeste motions them to the table with a fond sigh “The wards on the home are ancient. Only Noctus knows what most of them are.”

Before he can ask, a woman with erratic cut hair pokes her head down the stairs, “Did someone say Noctus?”

Celeste's slightly cold grace thaws almost instantly, as the strange shorter woman stumbles off the stairs and towards them, “Darling!” She looks at them, beaming with pride and warning, “This is my wife, Noctus.

“Howdy!” She gives them a strange half salute, apparently none the wiser to, well, anything.

Celeste continues, “This is Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall and Potions Master Severus Snape, a professor invited along to help us.”

Noctus' eyebrows raise a little, and it occurs to Snape that Celeste's last sentence sounded strange, but he doesn't quiet know how.

Noctus tilts her head a little, “Is that so?” She snaps her yellow brown gaze towards him, easily locking eyes with him and he realizes what he saw was a subtle que between them. “Pleasure to meetcha!” She extends her hand towards him.

As he shakes her hand he reaches out to feel she has Occulmency wards as well, and any attempt to push further greets him with a flash of red and a horrible sinking feeling in his gut. He retracts as Noctus casually turns away to shake McGonagall's hand as well.

McGonagall responds with a sharp nod, “Of course.”

“Where's your son?” He asks, feeling a slight eeriness pass over him.

“Outside in the backyard.” Celeste answers with out a second thought before quickly talking on. “Please sit, I'll put the kettle on.”

For a brief moment he and McGonagall stare at the chairs and one silent battle of wills later, she is sitting in the folded steel chair and he is sitting beside her on the velvet stool. He isn't sure weather he won or lost this particular battle. He instead focuses on Celeste filling up the stainless steel kettle with the sink tap and humming, as Noctus settles across from them in the plastic lawn chair. Nether of them had drawn a wand since he had arrived. Nether had cast any magic either. He comes to the conclusion that Noctus is the magic user out of them two of them.

_She knows the house wards better, has stronger Occulmency and some of the burn marks on her leather jacket are from potions work._

His train of thought is interrupted by another slightly eerie feeling and he quickly scans the room, looking to place it.

_Are we being watched??_

He refocuses on the hosts, straightening up a little as Celeste clears her throat, and settles in the scuffed wood chair beside Noctus, slipping their hands together with such envious ease

“So, straight to business then.” She hums, a strange despondent tone in her voice, “Is my son Harry Potter?”

He notices the slight tension between her eyes and the eerie wide eyed look Noctus suddenly has.

McGonagall takes out the Hogwarts letter and places it on the table, speaking in a firm and calm manner, “The letters are bound in a very powerful magic. They always find their way to there mark. If your son received this letter.” She watches them carefully, “Then yes, your son is Harry Potter.”

For a moment the two just stare at them wide eyed before they both let out a collective soft sigh akin to resignation.

_Funny. Thought they would be more exited to be raising a celebrity._

Noctus speaks first with a nervous and strange laugh, “Well Shit.”

Celeste rolls her shoulders, her warm demeanour slipping into cool determination, “We suspected he might be when the letter arrived.” She hums with an edge of agitation, before suddenly speaking up, “Alright, Fern you can come out.”

The sliding closet door slips open and a small boy casually strolls out like he did not emerge from eavesdropping on a very important conversation. It takes but the first glance and Snape knows who the boy is. This is Harry Potter. He looks almost exactly like his father did when he was his age, minor differences but too many similarities; black hair that could turn dark brown with exposure to the sun, a similar slim face and button nose, glasses although the boys were large and round over rectangular. The only major differences is the boy is smaller and thinner than he father was, wearing clothes slightly too big for him, the lighting bolt scar on his forehead obscured by a messy tuft of hair and his eyes, bright vivid green like emerald, almost identical to his late mother's.

_I was NoT REadY. remember what Regulus said, breath in and out and in and out...._

Snape has no idea he had clenched his hands to remain composed, not until he realizes his nails are biting into his palms. The boy is none the wiser, striding up and thrusting his hand out at them with an awkward smile.

“Hi. I'm Fern McJone.” He says with a slight shrug, “Pleasure to meet you Deputy Headmistress and Professor.” He waits patiently as McGonagall carefully takes and shakes his hand and the boys eyes shifts too look at Snape.

They instinctually lock eyes, and Snape wastes no time, swiftly nudging into the boys gaze and mind. He is met by a wall of misty tiled glass, similar to a greenhouse, and although he cannot see inside, he feels a small thrum of panic brush against the interior of the wards. He looks to the side and sees a red door, before the boy flicks his gaze so he is looking past him, and the connection is suddenly lost.

The panic not evident on his young face as he smiles, “I'll grab the kettle.”

Snape frowns as he realizes the kettle is singing an operatic tune, trying to get there attention with a rendition of something from _The Barber of Seville._

Celeste watches on and hums casually, “We have already had the inevitable conversation.” She waves her hand elegantly with slight humour, “We've come to the collective conclusion that being Harry Potter is not very good for ones health.”

Noctus rushes on enthusiastically before either of them can argue, “So how would you change the name of a kid in the Hogwarts system?” She lets out a worried laugh, “It is possible, right?”

Chances to argue are again, belayed, this time by Harry Potter looking up over the counter at them with an announcement, “I'm making Earl Gray, does anyone want hot chocolate instead?”

Noctus leaps out of her seat and her chair is sent bouncing to the floor, “ME!”

Snape lets the loud noise settle on the headache slowly building behind his eyes before also speaking up, “I will have the alternative as well.” He ignores McGonagall giving him a concealed concerned look.

She looks back at the McJones mothers, “We can change the boys name in the system, only I, Professor Snape and the Headmaster would know, but,” She pauses eyebrows knitted before she looks at them again, “Are you sure?”

She jumps a little as Harry Potter places the cup of tea he's holding in front of her with surprising force. There is an awkward pause as he stares at her with a blank look, eyes alight with cool anger.

“I am.” He says without changing the tone of his voice, “I was raised as Fern and I live as Fern. It is who I am.” He finishes, firmly.

Noctus busies herself with her own drink, sipping it and watching before suddenly speaking up, “Fern is this is my nice marshmallow hot chocolate?”

Fern's cold composure breaks and he wrinkles his nose at her, “They're important guests I used the best stuff we had.”

“Aw man. I'll have to buy more later.”

Celeste rolls her eyes, but her smile is fond, “Please dear, enough.”

Noctus grumbles into her cup sadly, and Snape stares at the hot chocolate as the boy sets it in front of him, staring at him out of the corner of his eye.

McGonagall easily recovers from the slight start and sips her tea before addressing Celeste, “If I may, I would like to see Fern's adoption papers.” She looks at said boy with a pointed but firm look, as he pauses giving his mother her tea, “If he was adopted as Fern McJones, It would very easy to make the change.”

Celeste takes the tea from Fern who relaxes minutely as she gently pats his hand, and smiles at McGonagall, “Of course. Noctus, come. Fern?”

Noctus struggles to chug all her hot chocolate while also casting a wandless heat retention spell on Celeste's tea as she leaves it behind.

Fern shrugs at them and takes Celeste's seat placing his own mug beside hers, “I'll stay here.”

Celeste looks to Snape with a smoother, tighter smile, “Professor Snape?”

He waves his hand dismissively, “I'm fine.”

She nods politely in response and gently pats Noctus on the small of her back, urging her to put the cup down, before the two motion at the already standing McGonagall to follow them.

As the three disappear up the creaking stairs, Snape realizes he is sitting alone with Harry Potter, uh, Fern McJones, and an uneasy silence settles between them as he stares at is untouched hot chocolate and The Boy Who Lived sits across from him, sipping from his own mug and swinging his legs back and forth. Snape's hair curtains his face a little and he continues to do nothing but stare at his drink, as the nearly bone crushing awkward dead air just stretches out between them.

 _I am going to do nothing about this,_ He decides.

“So....” The boy finally speaks, being a child and as such unable to handle prolonged quiet periods. “You teach Potions?”

“Yes.” He answers bluntly, not looking at him.

Th boy doesn't miss a beat, “Cool. I like potions. Mum Noctus lets me help her sometimes.”

Snape's lip curls back a little, but he simply answers, “Is that so?”

“Yeah! Well, she only lets me cut and organize the ingredients she hasn't let me add things yet. I'm not allowed in the lab alone.” He hums, clearly distracted by his own thoughts.

Snape finally looks up, and the boy stills as Snape casts a judging look on him with Sneer # 10 Doubt, “Well, well, well. You're an expert than?”

The boy looks away from him and shakes his head sheepishly, “No, well, I'm pretty good...”

“I'll be the judge of that.” Snape clucks, smoothly standing up and gliding around the side of the table, “So, where would I find a Bezoar?”

The boy looks up at him in surprise, “Oh uh...” Snape stares at him with a slightly sinister smirk, and the boy presses his lips together and blinks before saying, “In the stomach of a goat.”

Snape tilts his head in slight surprise, “Correct.” He quickly moves on before the boy can celebrate, “What's the difference between Monkswood and Wolfsbane?”

The boy answers instantly, “They are the same plant. Aconite.”

Snape lingers, looking down on the boy who looks up back at him but doesn't meeting his gaze, no doubt wary.

_I shouldn't asks this._

Snape turns his back to the boy as he asks the next question, “Finally, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

The boy mutters to himself before answering, “Asphodel is a Lily...bitter...grave.... Draught of Living Death, uh, a sleeping potion.” Snape nods but doesn't turn around. “Hell Yeah.” He can hear the boy's excitement, although his own feelings are dull.

_Hah. Why would I expect him to underst-_

“...Who's Lily?”

He asks in such a small voice, Snape could almost presume he misheard him but no, the boy got the message loud and clear, and now Snape regretted saying it at all.

He let the silence linger before speaking with regret on his tongue, “She was your mother.”

He isn't looking at the boy, but he can assume any number of reactions to this information. Disgust and disdain are the ones he's familiar with.

He doesn't expect the response to be a soft and sad. “...I'm so sorry.”

“Its not your fault.” He snaps back, although his bite is numbed by his own guilt.

Another tense pause hangs around them like a heavy blanket, before the boy suddenly slips out of his chair and walks up to him. Snape pauses before turning his head to the side to stare down at those haunting green eyes, filled with determination.

Fern nods, “I forgive you.”

Snape turns to face him fully and huffs angrily, “You don't-”

Fern beats him to the punch, loudly announcing, “No it's too late. I've already decided.” Snape feels his words catch in his throat as Fern fully meets his gaze, and he is thrown by seeing Fern's thoughts clearly.

_What happened, happened. The present more important right now._

Snape looks away, hissing lowly as if burned.

_That's not true and it's not fair. Did he do that on purpose?_

Fern pauses, reeling a little from someone being in his head briefly, before he speaks up again, “We can deal with more of this adult stuff later. I'm too small for this.” Fern shakes his head and steps closer to Snape looking up at him fearlessly, “You want to see the lab? Noctus is working on something cool in there.”

Snape takes a deep breath before he stares down at Fern McJones again. He wants nothing more than to retreat into his own head or just scream, but the rage in his chest is tempered by words he knows Fern couldn't possible mean, and he feels too tired to fight the turn of the tide.

He sighs. “Fine.”

Fern nods and starts towards the stairs, Snape following closely behind. They venture in relative quiet, and Snape uses the blessed peace to look around and gather information. They pass through the second floor, a thin hallway dotted with three doors, and up the spiral staircase at the end. It dawns on Snape that even with the strange architecture, the interior is bigger than the outside. He shrugs the idea off as he enters the third floor, walled with steel, and holding a circular room encased with another wall of steel and glass. Fern moves ahead of him quickly, stopping at a steel closet to throw on a pair of plastic goggles, leather gloves and a leather apron. Snape doesn't bother, instead sweeping over to the large steel door and swishing his wand at it, swinging it open automatically. Fern follows close behind into a large room, crowded with shelves of bizarre brewing devices, equipment and ingredients. The place has a distinctly acidic smell and Snape feels himself relax a little in the familiarity. He glances at a nearby device, something horribly old, but well used, as Fern examine the large cauldron in the centre of the room, simmering with a soft white blue glow and silvery bubbles.

“This is what she's working on.” He says quietly, motioning at it.

Snape leans around him and gazes into the cauldron, “...Draught of Peace.”

_Or at least a version of it. This one is diluted it seems. How could she manage that?_

Fern startles and looks up at him, “Woah! You can just tell?”

He puts on Sneer # 4, Vindictivly Pleased, “I would not be a very good Potions Master if I couldn't”

“Wow, wild!” Fern breathes in awe, before picking up a jar of navy blue syrup and holding it up, “Do you know what this is?”

Snape hums, “Yes. Do you?”

“Hmm,” Fern holds it at eye level and glares at it, “Hellebore, I think.”

“You think?”

“Well, no, I know it's Hellebore.”

“Very good. You have a chance to impress yet....” Snape glances around to look for something to test the boy on but pauses when he spies something abhorrent. “What is _this_?”

He has settled his eyes on a plant, well, mostly, as it has the characteristics of a cactus, but the ears and face of a cat. It bobs back and forth in a rhythmic and joyous fashion.

_What kind of defiance of all reason is this?????_

“Hm?” Fern looks over as he puts the jar back, “Oh that's Spiny. She wanted to be in the lab today.”

“What is it?” Snape motions at it, not taking his eyes off of it.

Fern shrugs. “It's a Catus. A cat cactus.”

Snape can only stare at it as it dances, “...How?”

Fern walks over beside him, perfectly undisturbed, “I have no idea. It was a gift from my mums. I don't think even they know how they did it. Watch this.” Fern pulls out a small baggy of what looked to be dried sausage and shakes the bag, “Yo Spiny!” The cactus stops dancing and stares at him, cat face still in a perpetual tiny cat smile, “Do a flip.”

In one fluid movement the creature leans forward and then launches itself pot and all into a perfect, flawless back flip, landing back with a soft clink and not even a wobble. Fern coos encouragement to the plant as he holds out a sausage, the cactus leaning forward to bit down and munch on it with its small cat teeth.

_It has teeth. It has a face. How is this real?_

“I am speechless.” He finally concludes looking down on the thing with a mixture of worry and subtle appreciation, “You do realize that this thing is probably a crime against ethics right?”

Fern shrugs “And affront to god. Yeah I know. But look.” He holds out his hand to present the Catus as she begins to sway and bob again, “She dances.”

For a brief moment of silence they simply watch the mesmerizing movements of Spiny in her perpetual silent dance.

“Fern?” Calls Noctus from downstairs.

“In the Lab!” He shouts with impressive lung capacity.

Noctus can be heard clamouring up the spiral staircase and her dusty uneven self appears on the other side of the observation window.

She presses her lips together, “Hey, your not allowed in here alone.”

Fern answers instantly, “I'm not alone. Professor Snape is with me.”

Snape looks at him with a wordless frown and a raised eyebrow. Fern skilfully doesn't look at him.

Noctus rolls her eyes with a smirk, “Hm. Clever. But Professor Snape is being called away by the Deputy Headmistress, so out you go.”

“Darn.” Fern mutters under his breath as he wanders out, Snape following automatically.

Fern pauses at the staircase to look up at him, “It was nice to meet you Professor. I think I'm going to like your class.”

Snape stares at him, “Don't bet on it, but thanks.”

Noctus shrugs at them with nothing to add, and they descend back to the first floor, where Celeste is talking lowly with McGonagall at the front door. Snape drifts away to stand by McGonagall who nods at him with a critical eye, which he ignores. Noctus wanders over and hands him a thermos. He blinks at it and then at her.

She shrugs, “Keep it, I have a lot of them.”

Any argument is prevented by McGonagall, “Thank you for having us, I will keep you informed on the name change.”

Celeste beams at them with a polite nod, “Thank you for coming to see us.”

Noctus waves her hand at the door and it opens automatically as she grins at them, “And come back any time!”

Fern lingers behind them, “Goodbye Deputy Headmistress.” He looks at Snape meeting his eyes again, glass walls back in place, “Professor.” He nods.

Snape turns away without a word and follows McGonagall out.

They don't speak to each other once the two of them are back on the slowly cooling concrete streets, but Snape suspects when they reach the trees McGonagall might have some words for him. They continue to stroll back into the yawning woods, simmering in the warm sun, before she finally speaks up.

“That went...Interestingly.”

He hums noncommittally in response.

“How was....” McGonagall slows her walking to give him a meaningful look.

Snape thinks about it and shrugs, “...He certainly isn't his father.”

“No?”

“He's not his mother either.”

“No, I suppose not.” She looks ahead, a slight smirk pulling at the edge of her lips, “Just Fern McJones apparently.”

Snape huffs, “Hm, yes. Just Fern.”

As he stares at the swaying branches in the warm dawning twilight, simply rolling over the strange enigma that is Fern and the McJones, he misses how McGonagall looks at him with a curious smile.


	7. Money Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fern and his moms go to Gringotts Bank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is Welcome.  
> I think suddenly being mega rich would be great, but dealing with all the assists? What a nightmare.

Snape glares at Sirius.

“No”

“Please.”

“Absolutely Not.”

“PLEEEEEEEAAAAAAASE”

“Sirius NO!”

“You'll help me right?” Siruis turns and looks at Lupin, whose light green grey eyes flicker up from the book he is reading.

He blinks a little, shaking his floppy light brown hair in surprise “Uh, what? Sirius I don't...” He winces as Sirius stares at him with wide electric pleading eye, “We'll talk about it later.” He concedes, like a coward.

Snape growls at them, “If you get caught, I will stand by and applaud the Aurors as they kick your asses into Azkaban.”

Sirius laughs, “Pfft. Regulus will break me out.”

“No I won't” Regulus doesn't even look up from the book he's perusing.

“Course you will.” Sirius barks happily tossing his messy black hair and leaning over Lupin's lap to smile at Regulus, “You'll miss me.”

Snape rolls his eyes and executes Sneer #6 The Equivalent of Flipping Someone The Double Bird, directly at Sirius “Ugh, I wish Lucius was here to call you an idiot as well.”

\---

Fern is sitting at the kitchen table, kneeling on the scuffed wooden chair to look over the Hogwarts letter in front of him.

_Robes, school books, wand, cauldron, telescope..._

“I checked off the supplies I found around.” He sighs, “Where are we going to get the rest of these things?” He asks, looking up at Celeste.

She is scanning over a great number of notes she has written with a pile of different Wizarding newspapers and books.

“We are going to go shopping in London today. We are going by floo once Noctus is back from Old Miss Agatha's.” She says casually while nodding at a copy of the Quibbler.

Fern taps the table.

_How are we going to afford this?_

“We have fireplace?” He asks instead.

“There is a fireplace in the library.” She hums.

“...There is?”

“Yep. I had to coax it out of hiding.”

Before Fern can ask, the door dramatically swings open and Noctus enters, holding a jar of dirt above her head.

“I have returned.” She announces shaking the dusty jar.

Celeste smiles without looking up, “Darling.”

Noctus shimmies over and pecks Celeste on the lips, “Sweetheart.”

Celeste doesn't miss a beat, “I know that look in your eyes, do not try to snort the floo powder.”

“I won't!” Noctus snorts defensively, “I thought about it, but I won't”

Fern already has his light coat on and tosses Noctus backpack on the table, “What are we waiting for?” He snatches up his letter with a grin, unable to contain his excitement anymore, “Let's go!”

Celeste smooths out her research and sweeps to her feet. She snatches her purse up with a fluid motion before pressing another kiss on to Noctus' lips and swaying up the stairs. Noctus fumbles for her backpack and jogs after her, Fern following close behind. Upstairs, Fern watches as Celeste pauses for a brief moment before sliding open the library door, revealing a large circular room with a huge squat stone carved fireplace, embedded in a book case and dusty with misuse. He wrinkles his nose as swipes his hand along the mantle collecting a near carpet of greying fluff.

“You weren't kidding,” He laughs.

Celeste smiles at him as Noctus waves her hand in a smooth S shape.

“Scourgify” She mutters, a quick blast of light bubbly air sweeping the mantel shiny and pristine within moments.

She turns and holds out the now open musty dirt jar to him, “You know what to do kid?”

“Sure do!” He bobs up on his toes to look in the jar and taking a handful of dark ash, “Uh, Why aren't we apperating?”

Noctus shrugs and holds the jar out to Celeste, “I've never been to Diagon Alley. I need to know where I'm going.”

“Fair.” He shrugs and turns to the fireplace, stepping inside and taking a deep breath, “Diagon Alley!”

He throws the ash into the fire pit at his feet and it erupts in green flames, swallowing him in a licking swath of cool emerald light, before he steps out of the fireplace, stumbling as he trips up on uneven hardwood floor. He quickly steps away from the fire place opening and looks around, taking in the hazy old style tavern, dimly lit with flickering oil lamps and heavily populated with hunched seedy looking wizards.

There is another eruption of green flames as Noctus stumbles through the fire place, holding hands with Celeste who nearly hits her head on the low cobblestone mantel. Celeste smoothly recovers, sidling up to the bar and addressing the bald barkeep, while Noctus subtly checks to see if the make up on Fern's scar got rubbed off.

“Good afternoon. We're looking to go to Diagon Alley.”

The man nods at them, motioning to the crooked back door, “Go into the back alley way, tap your wand on the the brick three up and two across from the dustbin.”

“Many thanks!” Noctus crows with a nod.

Fern waves at the barkeep shyly, as he huddles close to his mothers and walks with them through the creaky backdoor. The back alley is a small walled off area made of faded and worn old red brick and cluttered with empty bottle boxes and a steel trashcan. As Noctus and Celeste count the bricks, Fern hovers nearby until Noctus hums in appreciation before tapping her pointer finger against the brick in question. The bricks grind and shuffle, slowly but surely slipping and sliding along each other, peeling apart into a wide open arch. Fern feels a hitch of anticipation as the light streams in and he takes in the long cobblestone streets, lined with tall crooked buildings and shops of many strange hues, and crowded with witches and wizards dressed in many elaborate, shimmery cloaks and pointed curious hats. Noctus and Celeste nudge him forward into the throng of pedestrians, the three of them shimming quickly and carefully through the bustling crowds like fish in a stream.

Fern gasps as he looks around, “Wow...”

Celeste carefully clasps his hand in hers as Noctus ruffles his hair, “Head up and alert kiddo.”

“Where are we going first?” He asks, looking around to stare through store windows at the oddities inside.

“Gringotts Bank.” Noctus chirps pointing to the end of the road at the tallest building Fern had ever seen, made of glittering white marble stone, slanted pillars and golden letters.

Celeste hums, “We have to talk to them about any vaults the Potters left.”

Fern mulls it over, “Huh. Guess that makes sense.”

“Is that ok?” She glances down at him worriedly.

Fern shrugs, “Well as long as my biological parent didn't leave me in debt, yeah I guess.”

Noctus chuckles eerily, “Whatever is there, we can change the name on the vault, if you want to?”

He grins at her, “I just might do that.”

They bob up the steep marble steps and pass through the towering gold rimmed doors, passing into a large dark stone atrium lined with small desks and ending with a thin podium. The place is bustling with activity, and every desk is occupied by small wrinkled creatures, sporting long clawed fingers and sharp unimpressed sneers.

_Goblins. Cool._

Celeste leads them to the podium at the centre and motions them to slow. They approach and wait, watching as the clerk ignores them and continues scratching away at the parchment in front of him. Celeste makes no noise and waits patiently, while Noctus waits less patiently, shifting and shuffling with many small unconscious twitches. The Goblin finally places his long white quill down and turns his fiery coal black eyes on to them.

“Yes?” He hisses, bearing all his many needle like teeth.

Celeste gives a formal nod and smiles at him, “Good afternoon. May your riches flow aplenty.”

His eyebrows quirk and he grunts at them, “Hm. Name?”

“I am Celeste McJones, this is my wife Noctus and this is my son, Fern.” She motions to them accordingly and they both wave, “He is also Harry Potter.” Celeste uses her free hand to slip a old gold key from her purse, and Fern realizes he recognizes it from a few days after the visit with the Deputy Headmistress, “I have been given this key to access the Potter Vaults. I would like a record document on the accounts, as well as all outstanding charges attached to the Vaults.”

Fern pipes up, “We would also like to change the Vault name.”

Celeste continues and gives his hand a quick squeeze, “After we look. Please.”

The clerk stares at them for a long uneasy moment before slapping a parchment on the edge of his desk, “Fill out this form.”

Noctus hums, “Hold it.” She steps up and waves her hand along the parchment, ink slithering up on the page and filling it automatically, “Done.”

“Excellent.” The clerk hisses, looking it over before nodding and pulling up a new blank parchment onto his desk.

He traces his long crooked pointer finger along the blank parchment's face, eliciting a soft hiss of old magic in the air, before looking it over and rolling it shut with a quick short flick of his writs.

He holds it out on the edge of his podium, “Here is the scroll depicting what is in the Potter Vaults. If you wish to change the name of said vaults to your family name, fill out this form.” He holds out another scroll.

Noctus slips the form from his grasp, while Celeste bows politely again, smartly taking the first scroll.

“Thank You.” She smiles and quickly unfurls the scroll as Noctus swipes her hand along the new form.

Fern watches with worry as Celeste's eyes suddenly widen and she snaps her gaze to Noctus, stopping her dead as she hands the name change form back to the clerk.

“Noctus.” She says, her voice quick and tense.

Noctus stares at her, “Heh?”

Celeste folds the parchment in half and holds it up to her face, Fern going up in his toes to try and look at it, as Noctus squints at the small print numbers before her eyes blow wide.

“Sweet Jumping Puffskeins!” She yelps quickly turning to the clerk with an uneasy laugh, “I-Is this accurate?”

The clerk watches in barely concealed bemusement as he hands her the approved name change form, “That is what is in the McJones nee Potter vaults currently open.”

“C-Currently...” Noctus sounds faint.

Celeste's eyes harden and she straightens her back, her dangerous smile returning easily as she speaks with strange but polite authority, “I would like to see the names and funds to all the vaults under the Potter now McJones name, as well as any estates, and the names of any one who has access to said assets” She holds up the paper and points at one of the names, “...I would also like to visit this vault, please.”

The clerk leans forward and places a wiry pair of gold rimmed glasses on his long needle like nose, “Right this way.” He clucks, jumping down from his seat and waving at them dismissively.

Fern watches as another Goblin clicks up and takes over the podium, before Noctus snakes an arm around his shoulder and hurries him along after Celeste and the clerk.

“Come on kiddo.” She twitches a little, clearly uncomfortable.

Fern tilts his face up at her, “Um, what is...” He motions around him generally.

“Well, uh, how do I...” She laughs weirdly and Celeste hands her the scroll, “You know how you said as long as there were no debts you wouldn't mind?” She asks as they step up to a strange suspended mine cart.

“Uh yeah.” Fern raises his eyebrows as he steps into the cart.

Noctus shrugs and settles him between her and Celeste, who gives them a worried smile, “You parents did the opposite of that.”

“Oh” Fern thinks a little, “Wait, what!?”

He is jostled as the carts rockets forwards, slamming into action and throwing itself down a dizzying 90 degree slope. Fern yelps in surprise and his mums quickly loop their arms around him as the cart swerves and tumbles along the cave tracks at eye watering speeds, swerving side to side, up and down, and through one loop de loop, before diving forward and suddenly lurching to a halt in front of a wall of rusted steel doors.

“Watch your step.” The clerk snorts, barely concealing a laugh as Celeste and Noctus carefully place a startled Fern outside of the cart and smooth themselves out.

“Key.” He demands.

Celeste nods and hands him the key. “Here. Are there any other Keys to these vaults?”

“No.” He scoffs, snatching it up and strolling to a nearby rusted door.

“Excellent.” Celeste nods, following him.

Noctus meanwhile unfurls the scroll and shows it to Fern, who returns to his senses and stares at the numbers dumbly before he feels his soul start to leave his body again. He has no idea how to even say the immense number currently inked on the yellowed page. He makes a long very unsure sound and Noctus nods at him with a wince before they turn to look at the clerk as he examines the key closely, and slots it into the vault's key hole, giving it a smart turn. The door groans with ages of disuse, deep rumbling sighs as heavy gears turn and click, until the door shudders with a heavy cluck, and the clerk motions to the door as it swings slowly open. The vault is over flowing with gold galleons, silvery sickles, rust coloured knuts, and varieties of glittering jewels and oddities, the room a dazzling array of treasure and wealth.

“I...” He feels a little dizzy and out of depth.

“Oh my god.” Noctus says with similar feeling.

“Hm, I see.” Celeste nods looking on with a calculating cool look, before turning to crouch in front of him, “Fern.”

He startles back to himself. “Y-Yeah?”

“Things have gotten complicated.” She says with a pressed grin, “Would you like me to handle this?”

“I-I guess?? I mean,” He shrugs in exaggeration, “I have no idea how to deal with this. Do you?”

Her smile softens and she ruffles his hair, “Yes. I do.” She rises and dusts off her dress as she turns to address the clerk. “Please tell Mr..”

The Goblin watches on, “Griphook.”

She bows elegantly, “Griphook, that you are passing the control of the McJones nee Potter Accounts to me, Celeste McJones. I will be your accountant and handler, ok?” She looks at him with a genuine grin.

“Ok. Yeah.” Fern nods and glances up at Noctus, “What about...”

Noctus shakes her head furiously as she accepts another form from Griphook, “Oh kiddo, no, no, I am so not responsible enough for this.” She sighs swiping her hand along the smooth paper and handing it to Fern with a pen he was sure she wasn't holding before.

Fern accepts both and unfurls the form, quickly scanning the written statements, although less than half of them make sense to him. Tapping the pen against his temple, he reviews the contract once more, before signing the bottom line and handing it back to Griphook.

“Done.”

Griphook snatches it back and bows to them, “Celeste McJones, you are now the main name on the McJones Vaults.”

“Excellent.” She claps her hand together and turns to the vault motioning the two of them after her. “Follow me.”

They follow and Noctus hands her the backpack as they carefully step inside the dark vault, looking around at the mountains of money all over the floor, weary to even step on any of it. Celeste counts through a nearby pile with immense ease, and quickly slips the coins into the back pack, marking a quick number on the parchment she is holding before handing the bag back to Noctus.

“Take this.” She hums formally, addressing them with a fond grin, “Noctus, Fern, go shopping for school supplies, I will meet you both at Flourish and Blotts book shop in about five hours.”

Fern starts at her, “Five hours!?”

“Make sure to eat lunch.” She nods casually as she pecks him on the head and squeezes Noctus' hand before she turns to the clerk, still waiting nearby, “Griphook, I greatly apologies for taking so much of your time, is there someone in particular you would like me to talk to about handling my accounts, currency exchange rates and Wizard stock ratings?”

“I will handle this personally. Please follow me.” He sneers in approval and points at a new cart sliding up on the tracks, ridden by another Goblin, “This cart will take you two back up to the surface.”

“Thanks.” Noctus half salutes him and pauses to look at Celeste, “Be safe, yea?”

Celeste's eyes flash with steel, “We got this.” She promises smiling elegantly, “See you later.”

Fern waves goodbye and follows Noctus to the cart, watching as Celeste straightens her back again and her aura solidifies in a way Fern has never seen before. The cart jerks to life and Fern lets out a startled squeak, hugging onto Noctus as they are violently raced back to the surface.


	8. Adventures in Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping Time, includes Ollivander and a surprise meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is Welcome

Fern and Noctus are standing outside Gringotts on the cobblestone streets, both shielding there eyes to the sun and soaking in the current state of things.

“Fern”

“Mum.”

“I'm not gonna lie.” She shifts the back pack over her shoulder in discomfort, “I have literally never had this much money collectively in my entire life.”

“Me neither.” Fern shrugs, “I mean....how do we even spend it? Like.” He looks at Noctus and wrinkles his nose, “Do we still haggle?”

“Of course!” Noctus waves her arms about wildly, “Money is temporary. Money smarts are forever.” She pauses, “Ask Celeste about said money smarts. Her knowledge is more...socially accepted.”

They spend a prolonged moment of silence staring at the people rushing past.

“I've spent my whole casing rich folks, but now I am one.” Noctus laughs eerily, “Not just rich, way too rich. Celeste will handle this like a bloody queen, believe you me, but what about us? Can I even handle this?”

“Mum.” Fern turns and places a comforting hand on her arm, “We are going to handle this. And we will do it by spending what Celeste has given us.”

Noctus winces, “What if we make dumb rich people purchases?”

“We will.” Fern says firmly, “But we will be making dumb rich people purchases that go towards...” He presses his free hand to his chest in strange mock solidarity, “My education.”

Noctus stares at him and then shrugs with no preamble, “Alright. Lead the way kiddo.”

\---

Fern doesn't have a trunk, as despite the many options available at home, they were often packed full of other odds and ends, ranging from books written in dead languages to something that resembled a shivering mass of feathers. Not that Fern didn't love the items he inherited from the house's many nooks and crannies, but it meant that the amount of items he owned that were not hand me downs, previously owned or scavenged were very, very few. So the idea of having a new trunk, one that is his with no previous owner, that he would use throughout his upcoming entrance to the Wizarding World, bought with a sudden amount of wealth he had acquired, has him a little giddy.

_And nervous._

Fern looks over the boxish trunk, wary to touch it, “So it has a room inside of it?”

The wizard clerk, wearing a crooked fez, pops the lid open and motions at the interior, showing a wooden ladder leading into darkened space the size of a small bedroom.

“Indeed!” He hums, pleased.

Fern gleams at the space, itching to crawl in and investigate, “Wicked.”

Noctus coughs, “How much is-”

“Ah ah!” Fern slaps his hand over her mouth, “This. This will be my rich dumb purchase.”

“It's literally the first thing we're buying.” She grumbles behind his hand.

“It'll be a first time experience.” He nods sagely.

Noctus rolls her eyes, “Ahuhuh smarty pants. We should know more first.” She tilts her head at the clerk “Is it secure?”

“It comes with a custom chosen password” He nods, his fez bobbing, “and it can be warded.”

“What about quick access?” Noctus continues quickly.

The clerk snaps the lid shut and motions at the small clasp under the handle, “Switch this little nub and” He clicks the switch and clips the case open again revealing a simple floral print interior, “Voila, a spacious trunk.”

Noctus hums unimpressed, “Is it durable?”

“Completely waterproof, can survive a Bombardia from as close as 8 paces, and all things inside are under a charm that stops things from rattling around too much.” The clerk snaps the trunk closed and stands it up, rapping it smartly on the lid.

Fern speaks up, “It looks heavy.”

The clerk lifts it by the handle, “It's under a low level near permanent Feather-light charm. It's also a newer model so,” He presses the little switch in, and four little metal wheels pop out the bottom, “It has wheels.”

Fern gasps at it and wonders aloud, “Are there others with bigger spaces inside?”

The clerk brightens significantly, “I have one with a fully stocked apartment in it.”

“Hold on.” Noctus gives Fern a weary glance, “You don't need a fully stocked apartment. One room to store books and some lab stuff is fine.”

“Fair...” He mutters.

Noctus gives the current trunk a prolonged look, “...Does it come in a less gaudy colour?”

Fern looks at her deadpan, “You don't like the hot pink and encrusted with rare gems look?”

She raises her eyebrows at him, “Do you?”

“No.” Fern laughs before looking at the clerk “Does it come in plain black?”

The clerk smiles at them with a nod.

Noctus hums, “Can we get his name engraved on it in little gold letters?”

The clerk smiles even wider.

\---

He watches the brooms in the store front display as they glide and swoop around.

“...I'm not going to buy one.” Fern firmly says to himself.

Noctus watches the brooms as well. “Respectable.”

“But I will think about it.” He sighs.

There is a prolonged pause before Noctus speaks up.

“...We could buy me a broom, instead.”

Fern looks at her and quirks his eyebrow, “This money is for school supplies right?”

She replies without hesitation, “I will not question any rare potions ingredients you wish to buy later.”

He pauses, thinking hard before answering.

“...Nothing too high end.”

“I will ask fewer questions, instead of none.”

“Deal.”

They ended up buying a slightly sleeker dark wood broom and Noctus insisted on getting flames painted on the tail.

\---

None of the McJones understood why wizards didn't use pens.

“They are efficient!” Noctus hisses in excitement, holding her mechanical pen up to the face of a slightly frightened wizard clerk, “And easy to use!”

“Ah, but, madam, the ink from the inkwells, they are supposed to keep the magic in the written word...” He weakly protests.

“The ink in this pen.” She waves the pen closer to his face, “Functions exactly the same as the ink from the ink well. Watch.”

She snaps a piece of parchment out of thin air, clicks the pen and quickly marks a simple cubic rune on the page. The page instantly bursts into flames and she waves her hand at it, while the nearby clerk yelps and fumbles for his wand to put the fire out.

“And this bad boy isn't even high end. You could make a fortune on this!”

He sighs, staring exasperated at the mess on his counter and then at the pen she is still holding up to his face, “It's unsightly.”

“Pens have a variety of different looks and are heavily customizable. And really? You sell this,” She holds up a spiky brown feather quill, “and say my pen is unsightly??”

Fern bought a glossy raven feather quill as an apology before they got kicked out for Noctus selling muggle pens to shop patrons.

\---

“Fern, I'm glad we are getting the hang of this money thing, I mean, we're still uncomfortable, but I think we are really starting to understand our boundaries, ya know?”

“...So that's a no on the solid gold cauldron then.”

“Put it back Fern.”

\---

Noctus is leaning on the old wood counter, talking to a weedy teenaged store clerk that looks like he wished to be literally any where else, as Fern bounces around the apothecary like a sugar high kid in a candy store, piling countless things on the counter.

“Isn't flobberworm mucus an animal byproduct?” Noctus asks in conversation, “It's under plants.” She frowns at last ingredient Fern put down and gently grabs him by his collar before he can slip away again, “Fern, Icie Flakes require cold storage, and I am not letting to take the fridge to school with you.”

He shrugs at her, “I'll use the mini fridge”

She stares, “What mini fridge.”

“The one I bought...” He murmurs hesitantly, not meeting her eyes.

She sighs, “When?”

“Last Summer.”

“How?”

“He said it was broken, but the door was just misaligned.”

“How much?”

“10 bucks.” He fails suppressing a slightly sly smirk, “And I didn't even spend a dime to fix it.”

Noctus laughs and slaps him on the shoulder, “Damn son, that's pretty good.” Her grin becomes a little cat like, “But from what I remember, your new trunk doesn't have sockets...”

He blinks up at her, “No, but I' borrowing the Camping Adapter.”

“...Since When?”

“Since now.”

“Ok Hold-” She makes an exasperated series of noises as he carefully slips another item on the counter, “Hold on. We'll buy the ingredients and discuss this with your mother.”

\---

Lunch is at quaint little shop called Rosa Lee, which sells small sandwiches with their tea. It has a homey warm feel and unwinds them a little from their already pretty long day. They aren't even close to being done yet. Reluctant to go out again, they drag themselves out of shop, his new trunk in tow.

Suddenly, a large black dog barrels towards them and Noctus instinctually braces them for impact.

Fern brightens, “Dog!”

Said dog stops just short of running right into them and starts bouncing around wildly, sniffing them and vocalizing like crazy with happy whines, huffs and yaps. Noctus relaxes slightly as Fern carefully holds out his hand, allowing the dog to sniff it, although the pupper instead goes straight to licking his face and rolling around excitedly.

“H-Hey!” He laughs ruffling the dogs ears as it continues to gruff and wiggle excitedly.

“Snuffles!” A harried tall man rushes up, light brown hair askewed and pale green eyes wide, “I'm so sorry. Snuffles!”

Noctus waves her hand nonchalantly, “No, it's ok, your dog just surprised us.”

“Heya Snuffles! Whose a good boy?” Fern coos, eliciting many happy noises and furious nuzzling from the dog.

Noctus chirps, “You have a really beautiful dog. German Shepard right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, he's a mutt.” The guy laughs sheepishly as the dog snorts, “but he's really smart. Most of the time.”

Snuffles responds by jumping up and knocking the papers the man is carrying out of his arms.

“Snuffles, no!” He yelps, quickly kneeling to pick up the flyers he dropped.

Noctus quickly follows, kneeling beside him, “Oh, let me help...”

She pauses as she looks over the colourful flyer. Fern glances at it over her shoulder as Snuffles returns to playing with him. It's a strangely worded poster calling for consideration on a cause.

“Creature Rights?” She hums in interest.

The man doesn't look at her, a small discomfort passing over him, “Yes. I've been trying to raise awareness, been posting flyers for weeks now, people keep tearing them down...”

Noctus shrugs and hands most of flyers back to him, keeping one for herself, “Oh? what do you cover?”

He eases a little and quirks his lips, “So far we've been focusing on Werewolves, Centaurs, Goblins, House-elves, and Merpeople, as well as Half-Giants and Half-Veela”

Noctus glances up from the flyer, “Ah, no Half-Vampires?”

He blinks in surprise, “I...did not realize there were Half-Vampires...”

She points the flyer at him, “They are pretty rare, but we know one from back home.”

Fern looks up from rubbing Snuffle's belly, “We do?”

She points at him with a grin, “You know Macwell?”

He thinks and summons the image of a gangling and pale man with tinning orange hair, notorious for wearing expensive three piece suits no matter the weather and always smiling and waving to them when he passes by on his evening rounds.

He focuses back on Noctus, “The door to door salesman who lives down the streets?”

She grins widely and shoots him a finger gun, “Yeah him. His dad's a vampire and his mom was human when she had him. I've been making blood replenisher for the small harem of lovers he has. Nice guys.”

Fern smiles as he continues petting Snuffles, who looks like he is ascending to dog heaven, “Oh they ran the neighbourhood Summer Fun BBQ right?”

“That's them.”

“Oh huh, I thought they were all just roommates.”

Noctus stifles a cackle and deflects back to the stranger, “Anyway, if your interested in creature rights, I'm willing to lend a hand, and I have no doubt my wife would as well.”

His eyes brighten and he smiles warmly at her, “That's great! I'm used to it just being me and my uh, friends.” An air of mischief appears around him but vanishes quickly as well, “Do you owl?”

Noctus says at the same time, “Do you have phone...” They pause awkwardly, “Ah. Hmmmm.”

Fern lets them suffer for only a few seconds, “Mum.” He stops petting Snuffles to look up at her, “We could buy an owl. Or another messenger bird. We really could.”

Noctus taps the flyer on her lips and bobs up on her heels, “I suppose we could.” She suddenly hands the flyer to the stranger with a pen, again summoned from the void, “Here, write down your contact, and I'll message you soon enough.” She motions to herself and Fern, “Noctus McJones, by the way, Fern McJones. Look into getting a house phone, trust me, it's life changing.”

He smiles at them fondly and scribbles on the flyer in looping large penmanship “Remus Lupin, Pa-Snuffles, my dog.” He looks away with a slightly strange look that he quickly replaces with an easy smile, “We, um, we should go. Snuffles.” He scolds firmly.

Fern gets up with a sigh and Snuffles doesn't move, turning his head to stare back at Lupin, forlorn and whining.

Lupin shakes his head with a huff, “No. Don't. We are going.”

Snuffles lets a long huffy moan in argument.

“Come on..” Lupin groans lowly, sounding a little desperate.

Snuffles puts his head down and lets out a soul crushing sigh, before dragging himself to his feet and giving Fern some last minute happy licks, before Lupin waves him away.

He grins at them sheepishly, backing off into the crowds, “Again, thank you...”

Noctus waves at him, watching the two disappear into midday traffic. Noctus looks over the flyer with a cool smirk and Fern sighs.

“...Ok what was that about.”

She looks at him and furrows her brow, “What? I'm not allowed to be interested in creature rights?”

He rolls his eyes. “Not that. You were acting shifty.”

She snorts, “I was not.” and then mutters with a grin, “Or at least I wasn't the only one.”

Fern narrows his eyes at her, “You thought he was shifty?”

She hesitates before answering, “I didn't get any sense of malice, but I don't believe he came to us by total chance either.” She looks at him with a cool look unlike her usual mood, “We are not completely normal Fern. We have to be careful.”

Fern nods, thinking.

“So...Macwell isn't a half vampire then.”

She snorts and lets out a looping odd chuckle, “Oh no, that was completely true.” She glances past him and points across the road with a wide grin, “But look, pets!”

He turns and quickly follows her across the road to a small dusty shop, pushing through the door into a dimly lit and musty room. Fern frowns around at the slightly cramped interior, lined with wooden cages and perches holding a variety of rats, cats, birds, toads and so on.

“Eyes peeled kid, were buying a mail bird.” Noctus hums, pressing her lips at the cages and ignoring the guy at the counter as he doesn't even glance up from his paper to greet them.

Fern looks away from the cages, “Even though you thought he was shady?”

“I'mma help with creature rights anyway.” She grins at him, “And it pays to keep interesting people close.”

There is a brief pause before Fern speaks up again, “So, um, I was thinking...” He kicks his feet a little and stares at her, “Now that we can afford it, I want to buy a pet for myself. To have at school.”

She nods, “Well ok. Toads, cats and rats right.”

He wrinkles his nose, “I know but...”

She laughs low, “Ah, you want something else. What are you looking for?”

“A snake. Like...” He says quickly, becoming bold, “A bigger snake, not like the garden ones at home, more like a python.”

“Makes sense. Why don't we look around and see what they have. We can swing this to our advantage, yeah?” Noctus claps her hands together, and does a slow spin, pausing when she's looking at him again, “I see a problem. This place doesn't sell snakes.”

The clerk finally looks up from the Daily Prophet he's reading, “They are not a common pet for Wizards.”

“Oh? Why not?” Fern asks.

“They are considered bad luck. Owning a snake gives off a menacing aura that many don't want.” The clerk rolls his eyes, “If your buying for Hogwarts, they definitely won't let you bring in a snake. Not unless you're the bloody Boy Who Lived.” He laughs shaking his head at his own joke.

Fern and Noctus trade a concealed look.

Noctus smirks a little, “Uh, Thanks.” She changes the subject, “You sell mail birds?”

The clerk doesn't look at them, “Owls, ravens and the like.”

“Do you sell pigeons?” Fern stares at him, unimpressed.

He looks up with a wince, “...Pigeons?”

Noctus snaps her fingers, “Yeah. They're historically great delivery birds.”

He hesitates, “...I have a pigeon.”

“Just one?” Fern laughs.

“We can't sell it.” The clerk mumbles.

Noctus' eyebrows rise up her forehead, “..Why?”

“Look for yourself.” He grumbles motioning at a small cage behind the counter.

Fern and Noctus walk over and peer in to the darkened cage. Inside is a medium sized grey pigeon with bulging glassy eyes and a crooked beak. It sits on the bottom of its cage, a fat little dumpling of a bird with shedding feathers and an aura of unintelligence. It stares around them and tilts it's head, nearly falling over.

“coo....”

Noctus huffs with a smirk, “Wow. That is weird looking bird.”

“Those eyes. Haunting.” Fern nods, smiling as well, “How much?”

The clerk shrugs.“Five knuts.”

Fern and Noctus trade another look and she hands him the backpack.

“We'll take him.” He says, zipping open the bag.

The clerk looks up in surprise and fumbles off the stool he's sitting on, “What? Really?”

“Did the boy stutter?” Noctus raps on the counter, “Take that bad boy out of the cage and ring him up!”

The clerk struggles to his feet and opens the cage, carefully scooping out the bird who practically melts between his fingers with a confused noise, before he places it on the counter, where it sits, twitching its head a little. Noctus quickly snatches a spacious looking steel bird cage and bird feed, sliding them on the counter, as Fern slaps the money down beside them. The clerk doesn't say anything else as Fern carefully lifts the bird into the new cage, the pigeon sagging in his grip like a small feathery bag of mashed potatoes. They both nod at the clerk, before sweeping out the door, Noctus holding the cage and Fern rolling his trunk with him.

Outside Noctus holds up the cage to stare at the bird as it blinks walleyed in the sudden fresh air.

She grins thinly at Fern, “We should store it in your trunk, I want to surprise Celeste when we get home.”

“What should we call him?” Fern asks settling the trunk down to open it.

Noctus hums, unsure, “..Edger?”

Fern stifles a laugh, “I love it!”

He didn't have a pet of his own yet, but the family now has a mail bird. Edger McJones, the Pigeon. Said pigeon lets out a bizarre hoo as the cage is gently lowered into the trunk space.

\---

Noctus rolls the little dark blue telescope in her hands, glittering golden stars dancing around on it's surface.

She hums, “You think it might be distracting?”

Fern frowns at it and it's price, “Yeah....I'll just use the one I found in the library.”

“Really?”

He shrugs, “It's alright.”

She gently places the telescope back on the shelf. The one Fern had found at home was nicer anyway.

_And also it used to be owned by a legit pirate. Way cooler._

\---

Noctus pulls out the letter and looks it over, “What else we need?”

Fern sticks close to her and ducks around more people, “I just need a wand...and I can buy new robes as well.”

“Yeah ok.” Noctus gently tugs him out of the crowds and to the side of he road, pointing excitedly, “Check it out, Ollivanders and Madam Malkin's are right by Flourish and Blotts!”

Fern looks over, before tugging on her jacket, “Hey um...” He waits for her to look down at him, “Can I get my wand on my own?” He winces as her eyes widen a little, “No, please don't pout at me...”

She shakes her head, “Nah, I..” Her smile is a little sad, “I get it. You don't want me effecting your choice right?”

“Sorry...” He hums quietly.

She ruffles his hair, “No need to be kiddo. I got a small chore to take care of in Knockturn Alley. Just grab your wand, stop by Malkin's and then go to Flourish and Blotts. Me or Celeste will be waiting there. Oh here.” She dips into her jacket pocket and hands him a small bright green furry worm. “Remember this?”

“Oh man.” He laughs gently scooping up the worm, “When is last time I carried one of these around?”

She holds up her own purple worm and smiles “I got the other one. You need my help, just give him a squeeze.”

“I remember” He nods, slipping the worm into his pocket, “Stay out of trouble.”

Noctus sputters, “H-Hey that's what I'm supposed to say.”

Fern smirks at her and quickly dashes to the Ollivaders wand shop with a laugh. He pauses for a moment as he wanders past the door, examining the faded shop shelves and the dusty wand displays as he drifts up to the counter. The place looks worn with age and neglect, which is strange as it is situated on Diagon Alley's main street.

_Wizards seem to like the aged ascetic._

A rolling sound startles him from his thoughts, and he turns to see a man on a shelf ladder. He is short with greying hair, paper like skin and eerie milky white eyes that seemed impossibly large.

“Well well, I wonder when I would be seeing you Fern McJones.” He bounces off the ladder, and quickly rushes up to him holding a wand out to him, “Here. Pine and unicorn hair, eight inches.”

Fern nods in surprise, taking the wand gently, “Oh uh, sure.”

He squeezes the wand in his hand and gives it a swish. A gust of air whips up around him, tossing his trunk away and his hair into his face.

“Hm, no.” Ollivander clucks, snatching the wand back and quickly strolling to the nearby shelf, swiftly grabbing another wand box “What about this. Fir and dragon heartstrings, 12 inches.” Fern barely even looks at the wand before the man suddenly snaps the box shut, “No wait, no, no...”

Ollivander mutters to himself consistently, as he hands wand after wand to Fern. Some he barely touches before the wandmaker plucks them away, and some he uses with disastrous results; he lights the store counter on fire with a Sycamore and dragon heartstrings wand, he shatters a nearby chair with a Willow and phoenix feather wand and he nearly floods the shop with a Beech and unicorn hair wand. He's starting to feel a little discouraged by the sheer amount of wands he's going through, but he keeps at it without a word otherwise.

“...Hm. I wonder.” Ollivander mutters to himself after a great hour of trying wands to no avail, “Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches.”

Fern nods and takes the wand, not feeling particularly confidant, but as soon as his hand wraps around the firm wood, warmth floods his system. Warm orange light seems to shroud him like a heavy blanket and he feels a little like he's flying again.

“Woah.” He gasps, “I think this is it.”

Ollivander hums contemplating, watching him closely, “Indeed...”

Fern feels the warmth taper off and he looks at Ollivander carefully.

“What...”

“No it's nothing.” Ollivander chuckles, “So many things change, yet some remain the same.”

Fern rolls the wand in his hands, “Well, um, I actually have a question.” He stares at the scuffed wet floor, “Well, I'm supposed to be getting a talisman...when I'm like, 15 or 16? Does having a wand...hinder that?”

Ollivander brightens out of his mysticism, “Oh no. If anything practising with a wand is beneficial for first time casters who want to upgrade to a talisman later. I only ask...” He smiles sadly, “If you don't need it anymore...would you please give4 your wand to someone who does?” He stares at Fern, eerie eyes abnormally wide and strange, “You see, this wand has a brother. The phoenix that granted it's feather to this one granted another feather. Just one other. And the other wand bearing that feather, is the one that gave you that scar.”

Fern jumps his hand to his forehead, cover his scar like he'd been burned.

Ollivander hurries on, “Don't worry, it's not visible. But I did see this as one of the outcomes.” He waits for Fern to relax a little before he continues, “Take good care of it. And if you no longer need it...someone else will.”

Fern nods solemnly, “Thank you sir. How much?”

Ollivander stares at him, “Hm? Oh right. Sometimes I forget I'm running a shop.” He bounds behind the counter and glances at the parchment there, ignoring the extensive char marks, “Seven Galleons.”

“Here, keep the extra.” Fern hums happily, fishing out a small handful of gallons and dumping on the counter, “Thank you sir!”

He waves goodbye to the strange pale man and steps back out into the sunlight, excitement electric on his finger tips.

_Today has been a rollercoaster._

He couldn't wait to regroup and show Celeste and Noctus his new wand, his first real wizards wand, or to tell them about what Ollivander said. He glances at his reflection, making sure his scar is still covered.

He shakes his head a little to clear it, _But first..._

Fern carefully slinks into the crowd, slipping past people with his smaller advantage, and across the street towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.


	9. Making Friends and Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fern meets Draco, Lucius meets Celeste, Noctus meets a man in purple and Shade meets the McJones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is Welcome.  
> I love playing with perspective. Hope the not entirely chronological nature of this chapter isn't confusing.

The sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky as Fern steps into the warm and sweet smelling interior of the robes shop, a little bell tinkling overhead as he passes through the threshold. A short stout woman pokes her head out from the fitting rooms.

“Ah! Hogwarts dear? Come on back, I'm just fitting another young man for Hogwarts as well. I'll fit you both at the same time.”

Fern wanders to the back and glances up at the boy standing on the other stool. He's slightly taller than him, with pale sharp features and slicked back platinum blond hair that almost glows in the late day light. Fern hops up on the stool beside him and gives him a sheepish smile as Madam Malkin's tosses some robes over his head.

The boy glances at him apathetically and tilts his head up a little, “You're going to Hogwarts too?”

“Yeah.” Fern resists shrugging so not to disrupt Madam Malkin's measuring tape as it flits about him.

“My father is next door looking at books and my mother is across the street, probably looking to get me a racing broom.” He drawls with a slightly bored but nonetheless dramatic air.

“Cool.” Fern watches the boy and hums noncommittally.

He scoffs and continues as if Fern hadn't spoken, “It's stupid we aren't allowed to have brooms in our first year.”

Fern lights up, “Oh totally! I just got a new broom this year for my birthday and I was so looking forward to flying around with people.”

The boy turns his head to smile a thin cat like grin at him, “I'm going to bring mine any way.”

“What if you get caught?” Fern asks, despite also planning to sneak his broom in.

“Hah! My father's on the school board-” The boy cuts off his boasting and a slight worry passes on his face, “Eh, I mean, they won't expel me for that...” He recovers his cool demeanour and suddenly changes the subject, “Do you play Quidditch?”

Fern absorbs the misdirection and sighs sheepishly, “Don't have anyone to play with.” He relaxes as Madame Malkin drifts back over to the other boy and continues, “But I keep up with the scores in the paper. I'd love to play someday.”

The boy smirks proudly, “I play. My father trained me since I could walk. I'm going to be a star seeker for Slytherin.”

Fern tilts his head as he thinks about the Hogwarts Houses, “It's Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Hufflepuff, yea?”

The boy nods sharply, “I have to be Slytherin, my whole family has been. I can't imagine being anywhere else. If I got picked for Hufflepuff,” He huffs haughtily, “I think I would leave.”

“Really?” Fern looks off to the side, rolling over a peculiar thought in his head, “I think being in Hufflepuff could carry a lot of advantages actually.”

The boy shoots a sideways look at him, “No way. What are they even known for? Being horribly average?”

Fern nods, to himself mostly, “Well yeah, and that's why it could be a really great position to have.”

The boy stares at him, narrowing his blue grey eyes a little.

“Explain.” He demands.

Fern motions his hands in front of him awkwardly, “Think of it like this. People expect Gryffindors to be brave and reckless, the expect Ravenclaw to be the smart and relentless, and they expect Slytherin to be clever and sly, but people don't expect anything from Hufflepuffs. So when something happens, everyone looks to the other three houses first. They never suspect the Hufflepuffs.” He folds his arms and looks at the other boy with a thoughtful hum, “Under the right circumstances, you could get away with just about anything.”

The boy blinks, thinking carefully, before looking at him with a appraising stare “That...is the most Slytherin thing I've ever heard someone say.” He thrusts his hand out at Fern, ignoring Malkin's tutting at his movements, “I'm Draco Malfoy.”

Fern takes and shakes his hand firmly, “Fern McJones.”

The boy withdraws his hand and quirks an eyebrow, “McJones? I don't recognize your name.”

Fern resists chuckling, “Good thing too. We're trying to lay low.”

“Are your parents wizards?” Draco asks carefully.

“One is. The other isn't” Fern muses, gauging Draco's odd air.

“Oh, you're a half blood.” He sounds vaguely disappointed.

“Not that I know of. My biological parents were both magic users.” Fern amends.

Draco blinks again, slightly confused, “...So you're a pureblood?”

“I honestly don't know.” Fern waves his hand dismissively, “Don't really care either.”

Draco sniffs, “Well I think blood is pretty important.”

“...Why?” Fern asks out of genuine curiosity.

“We'll half bloods and muggleborns are a drain in the Wizarding world.” Draco says without hesitation, like second nature.

A soft pause settles between them as Fern frowns and mulls over the things unsaid by his conversation partner.

_Why should people who aren't pureblood be excluded? Wouldn't that just cause more problems?_

A brief logical leap later, he answers, “Wouldn't it be more beneficial to educate everyone so they can contribute and be less of a drain?”

Draco lowers his nose a little and his eyes scan the empty air in front of him, searching for something Fern cannot see.

“...uh...well..” He whispers to himself, before huffing aloud “I don't- I don't know about that....”

Fern wrinkles his nose, before nodding, “That's ok.”

Draco looks up at him sharply, “...Wait, that's it?”

Fern shrugs at him, “It wouldn't be very fun to talk to you if we agreed on everything. Conflict builds character.” He grins widely at him, “Mum says it's good to keep interesting people close.”

Draco blinks furiously, seemingly taken back, “You...” He suddenly looks away, muttering “Well I guess that's okay then.” He tosses his hair and looks back coolly, “I think you're interesting too.”

Madam Malkin gives a last tug on Draco's robes, “You're all done dear.”

He nods to her and steps down, and Fern shuffles a little. “Hey! uh...” He looks at is feet and back up as Draco pauses, “Do you want to sit with me on the Hogwarts express? I wanna talk to you more.” He bats down the butterflies in his stomach.

Draco brightens significantly, but plays it off stoically, “Yes, I supposed that would be alright.”

Fern bobs on his heels excitedly, “Well then I'll see you later alligator.”

Draco tilts his head with a bemused look, “Y-yeah, I will talk to you later.”

Draco does a small bow and sweeps off after shoving some money at Madam Malkin. She counts the coins out with a sigh and Fern stares at the door as it swings shut with a soft thud.

_D-Did I just make a friend?!_

Fern chuckles to himself giddily, and Madame Malkin's hums to herself with self satisfied smirk.

\---

Draco is practically skipping as he steps out of the robe shop and turns to go down the road, but he resists, keeping his back straight and his steps formal.

_I-I made a friend?! Not like a networking friend, A real, interested in me, friend?!_

He stops as he comes up to his mother, standing outside a neighbouring shop and glancing at the flyers in the window with disinterest.

She nods to him, “Draco.”

He bows a little, “Mother.”

“You're practically skipping.” She remarks coolly, “Did something good happen?”

“Hmhm, well you'll be happy to know I just made a friend.” Draco can't resist smirking widely, “A real friend. He said I was interesting.”

She turns to face him with a calm smile, “Is that so? Well that is wonderful dear.”

Draco's father sweeps up to them from down the road, tossing his hair gracefully as he nods at them

“Narcissa, Draco.”

Draco bows a little deeper, “Father.”

His mother nods to him sharply and motions back at Draco.

“Draco was just telling me he made a friend at Madam Malkin's.”

His father's eyes flash and he looks at him with a thin grin, “Oh how nice. Do we know their family?”

Draco hesitates.

_Damn. Think Draco, get around it._

He shakes his head, “Oh they aren't well known. He is pureblood though, his bio-” He frowns in frustration as he tries to remember the word, “Bi-o-lo-gi-cal parents were a witch and a wizard.”

_I think..._

His father tilts his head, his eyebrows raising, “Hm. Well I would like know their name anyway.”

Draco smiles calmly and braces for impact, “McJones.” He hurries along, “He practically begged to sit with me on the train to Hogwarts, and I couldn't exactly turn him down right there and then...” He pauses as a slightly cold look that filters into his father's eyes, “...but, I suppose, if you don't want me to associate with him, I could...turn him down on the train...It's not a big deal.” He says this with a smile, despite feeling his heart sinking down into his gut.

His father hums oddly, “I, well,” He pauses, thinking, before he smiles a little warmer, “No, it's nice for you to make friends with a boy your age. You should sit with him, you said you would after all.”

Draco brightens and lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, “R-Really?!” He nods his head and smooths his expression down, “I mean, of course. It would be wrong to turn him down after I already promised.”

“I'm very proud of you Draco.” His mother pats his shoulder softly before turning to look at his father with an expression that is still a lovely smile but also demands explanations. “Why don't you go look at the racing brooms? We'll be right behind you.”

Draco jumps at the opportunity, metaphorically.

“Of course.” He says with ease, turning smoothly and pacing towards the broomstick shop across the street. He glances back to look at his parents, wondering what they are to talking about with his mothers thin pressed lips, and his fathers slightly wider eyes.

\---

He is standing by some bookshelves in Flourish and Blotts, staring at the rows of unevenly stacked titles, listening to the inane chatter around him and feeling horribly bored.

_Ugh. I wish Severus was here._

He swipes his expensive dragon hide glove along a book and examines the thin layer of dust that came off on his fingertips. He tsks, and dusts his glove off on the nearby ugly curtain.

The bell over the door jingles as it breezes open and a peculiar woman strides in. Her posture is snappy straight, her stride graceful confidence, her air cool, collected and dignified. Her outfit was a different but somehow similar story, an ankle length turquoise dress made of light and unfamiliar non-magical material, but detailed with shimmery coiling silver designs, and a long black braid, tied in a casual form, but slick and with not a hair out of place. He stares at the books in front of him while actually watching her out of the corner of his eye. She strides up and taps the bell on the desk, a clerk hurrying over to help her.

“Hello Mam.” He chirps.

She smiles at him coolly and slaps a sheet of lined paper on the counter, “Good Afternoon. This is the list of books I need. Please find me books of similar subjects but more advanced and add them to a separate pile, I will annex the pile after they are collected. Okay?”

The clerk glances at the list chewing his nail, “Oh, uh, yeah, sure but what about-”

“Price? Please,” She smiles a little wider, “Don't let it worry you.”

The clerk nods and shuffles off, “Uh, yeah okay, I'll be right back.”

“Take your time dearie.” She hums after him.

She sends him off with a sweet smile and waits by the front desk like an elegant statue, unmoving and precisely patient. Lucius can tell by the cut of her form she is noble, but he doesn't recognize her, which is a little strange as anyone and everyone of wizard nobility knows and bends to him.

 _Bizarre._ He muses, _Who is this?_

He thumbs at the books he's holding on to, looking busy and turning a little to get a better look at her. Scanning her head to toe with a quick glance, he starts slightly when he sees her incline her head a little to look back at him, without meeting his eyes.

_She can tell I'm watching her?_

She sways away from the front desk, gliding dreamily along to a nearby stack of books, making a show of looking them over before sashaying over the shelf he is standing in front of, not looking at him as she pauses right beside him.

_Coming right at me as well?! A wonderful maneuver, but just who does she think she is? The audacity...._

He is incensed, as it were, affronted by the sheer boldness of this lady, but none the less fascinated.

She glances at him and hums, “You have a son going to Hogwarts as well?”

His apprehension increases and he turns to her, smirking thinly, “What gave it away?”

She smiles sweetly and meets his gaze without fully turning to face him, her eyes hard and flashing like steel.

“Oh it was a lucky guess.” She glances down slowly at the books he has in his grasp, “I assume your not reading first year textbooks on your own time?”

He looks down at them and back up at her, “I suppose it was a good deducted guess.” He glares coolly, “But how did you know he was my son and not a daughter instead?”

“Like I said.” She tilts her head back, “Lucky guess.” She sweeps her dress a little and turns to face him, eyes subtly flickering around him, “Lovely cloak you're wearing. Custom I suppose?” She says smiling sweetly, although her eyes remain calculating.

He boasts easily, “Yes actually. What about your..” He tapers off as he glances at her outfit again.

She brushes her hem, the silver details dancing with her hands, “Hand made. I love the silky material.” She hums, quirking her eyebrows at him.

He stares back, and gauges the situation.

_What am I doing? Is she a wizard or not? If she is a muggle she is dangerously bold. I should know more before I decide weather or not to destroy her._

“I don't believe we have formally met?” He clicks watching her subtle movements carefully, “Lord Lucius Malfoy.”

He is stunned as she doesn't even pause, instantly and fluidly dipping into a frankly beautiful formal curtsy, eyes still trained on him.

“Your Lordship.” She rises gracefully, “Celeste McJones, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She clicks back, almost mimicking his tone.

He presses his lips together but remains cool, “Are you noble born? I'm certain I would have heard your name before.”

“I am noble born.” She says her smile twisting a little in dark mirth.

“Born. But not noble anymore?” He surmises, lips twitching into another less friendly smirk, “What made you fall from grace?”

“I never fell from grace.” Her lips twist a little more, her face remaining sweet but her grin malicious, “It left with me when I was kidnapped.”

“Kidnapped?” His eyebrows raise as he scans her story, “and yet no one is looking for you?”

She chuckles in musical mirth, “Like I would let them find me?”

“So you ran?” He tuts, “May I ask why?”

“You may.” She says, smiling at him in the ensuing pause she lets stretch between them, before suddenly continuing, “Hm, you'll think it's silly.” She keeps her eyes trained on him as she bring her hand to tap her lips gently, “I left for love.”

He looks away, already losing interest, “Is that so.”

“Yes.” She thinks as she glances at the bookshelf, “Well, that and to escape the inbreeding I suppose.”

His interest peaks again with a curious discomfort, “Inbreeding?”

“Oh.” She turns to him eyes wide and exuding a fake kind of remorse, “I'm sorry, that's not a well known term here is it?” Her grin is wicked behind her hand, “Yes, who would have thought keeping it the family could damage the future generation so....”

Lucius adds the recent information in his head and suddenly, he isn't having fun anymore.

He tilts his head to look at her, smiling easily, but his voice is dangerously low, “Perhaps you would like to explain it to me.”

“Oh? But it's such a morbid subject.” She paces as she speaks, swaying a little as she wanders around him, circling like a shark, “Marrying cousins and relatives, attempts to keep the blood pure and clean, only for the intermixing to cause much worse problems; impotence and sterilisation, blood weakness, shattered mental states, debilitating physical deformities...No I shan't tell you anymore, it's just too awful.” She says dramatically placing the back to her hand her forehead, although her smile remains thin, “Although it is rather humorous they never found out I was sterile. What a drama that would have been....”

 _She isn't lying._ He realizes with a sick twist in his stomach. _She is confidant in her knowledge._

He isn't a Legilmist like Severus is, he had to cultivate other ways to read a persons emotions and mind, and with years of honed experience and escaping suspicion, he was confidant enough he wouldn't doubt his superior abilities. The worry slowly coiling into his system worsens with the realization and he looks down on her with a slightly narrowed look.

“I'm a little doubtful, I suppose.” He responds carefully.

“You have every right to be.” She observes with an expert tilt of her head,“It would be very foolish to outright trust me after all.” She doesn't blink at him, eyes trained on him like a hawk, “I haven't exactly given you a reason to.”

He watches her closely, weighing his options.

_She acts too bold for her own good, but she is intelligent and has some dangerous knowledge. Dismissing her would be a huge mistake...but..._

“Are you a muggle?” He says the word with no amusement.

She stares at him, her smile lilting up a little, “I thought you would be more clever than to just come out and ask.”

He looks down at her, and resists grimacing.

_Dammit._

He continues casually, “I'm just curious I suppose.”

“Would my answer change what I've already said?” She shrugs smoothly, shifting her weight into a casual but still elegant stance, “Well? What do you think? Am I Witch? Or Not?”

He gives a clear once over _...Not. She would have proved it by now to shut me up. She is a muggle. That just complicates thing...._

Almost like shes reading his mind, her eyes narrow a little and her smile grows sharp as she swishes her dress a little.

“Well, your Lordship? What do you think?”

_She's baiting me. She wants me to lash out and end it. But...damn...she has skills, knowledge...she's interesting. By incorporating her I jeopardize my current safe position in the echelon, but by stomping her out I'll be losing a possible valuable resource, one life changing even, and in turn I'll most likely be making a deadly enemy._

“I think....” He begins hesitantly, struggling to take control.

The door to the shop rips open with a slam and breaks the tense confrontation as a disastrous woman with horrible fashion sense holding a large blanket covered tank bursts in. He takes one look at her scuffed leather jacket and uneven cut hair and just knows.

_Criminal. Probably an idiot. No sense of self preservation._

He looks to his conversation partner to make a remark and stops dead in his tracks. She looks at the newly arrived woman with an aura of complete and utter love, a pure golden light of care and devotion that makes him nearly reel back in shock.

 _Oh my god, you have got to be kidding me,_ his thoughts groan.

“Noctus dear.” She smiles, glowing with pride.

Noctus nods with a rascals smile, “Sweetheart.” She flickers her eyes to him and looks him over, a dash of intelligence behind her yellowy gaze, “Uhhhhh....”

He looks down on her and Celeste answers easily, motioning to him,“This is Lord Malfoy, say hello.”

He notices the tone she put on his name, and watches as Noctus stares at him for a solid minute and then does a semi nice bow, awkwardly juggling the tank she is holding, which of course, hisses at her. It dawns on him Noctus is preforming the man's version of the noble bow instead of the woman's version.

“Lord Malfoy. Hiya.” She says unceremoniously.

Celeste glances over her shoulder at the front desk with a small tilt of her head and sees a nervous clerk standing by with all her books, too scared to interrupt their casual conversation.

“Ah, It seems my order is ready...” She turns to Lucius with a polite nod, “I am sorry to cut our riveting conversation short, but I have no doubt we will be able to pick it up again at some other time. Until then,” Her eyes flash again and she executes an elegant curtsy “Goodbye for now, Lord Malfoy.”

Her eyes linger on his with a wrathful steel as she finally turns away and strides up to the counter, Noctus giving him a semi bow shrug intersection before hurrying after her. He turns and leaves the moment she turns her back on him. Not that he needs to be outside right now, but he wants to clear his head.

 _WHAT the hell._ He sighs internally, pacing down the steps and on to the streets.

It was a fascinating turn of events, a intense introduction to a vicious and knowledgeable noble lady who had taken interest, most likely to try and goad a scene out of him, only for the two of them to meet at a sort of subtle understanding without any bloodshed.

_Smart indeed. She will be difficult to handle if she takes an interest in politics. Hm. It wouldn't hurt to keep her close and out of the way. She is interesting._

As he spies his wife and son talking by Madam Malkin's, his son practically beaming with glee, and he feels his heart soften and his worries ebb away a little. He glances back at the bookshop one more time, watching as through the window, Noctus holds up the blanket on the tank she's holding and allows Celeste to look inside, who raises her eyebrows and says not a word.

_Interesting indeed._

\---

She swerves through the crowd, snaking around miscellaneous people easily and quickly. She ducks down the small crooked staircase, bouncing down the narrow steps to Knockturn alley. On instinct, she ruffles her jacket, musses her hair and hunches her shoulders, entering at a quick but smooth pace indicating hurry, but not urgency. The alley is dark, narrow and shaded by it's deeper, awkward slope, as well as less populated spotted by only a few shadowy beggars and hushed scheming groups.

 _Ah. Reminds me of the old caravan road from my childhood,_ Noctus thinks to her self wistfully, _I miss it sometimes..._

She keeps her steps clipped and her eyes low, observing others with snappy glances and quick deductions.

_She is looking to steal from that shop...He may try to pickpocket me...oh that girl defiantly has a concealed knife...he's looking for a go- OH my god is that a real human pelvis?!_

She screeches to a halt and zips up to the nearby window for Dystyl Phaelanges, the shop window populated by skeletons and bone furniture, including a human pelvis and ram horns fashioned into a bizarre wall decoration. She stares at it wide eyed.

_Want! No Wait! I don't need it, I don't need it I don't need it..._

A few moments later, she sighs to herself as she stuffs her newly purchased pelvis decor into her backpack.

_I am weak. Celeste please lend me your willpower..._

She hums to herself and looks down the road, staying close to the shadows on the wall.

_Focus! Pet shop, pet shop, pet shop, pet shop....ah!_

She spies a small shady shop, labelled as Slither and Snipes Exotic Pets. It has a small display of varying snakes and creepy crawlies in the window. She pauses outside the shop across the road, McHavelock's Wizarding Headgear, hovering under the hanging wooden top hat sign and casing the joint carefully.

_Hell, it looks better than the Diagon Alley's Magical Menagerie._

She turns away and stares into the hat store window as the door to the hat shop opens and a man with purple turban strolls out. She keeps her gaze on the interesting hats on display as the man pauses while exiting, stopping to look at her with a slightly disdainful air. He draws a little closer and Noctus internally sighs.

_Oh, the troubles always find me. So, what the hell is this guys problem?_

“Hm.” He huffs staring at her, thin face drawn and cool, “With clothes like that you must be a muggle.” He says the word with a hateful drawl.

She turns her head slowly to stare at him with a blank look.

He sneers, “You must be dense to come down here.”

She continues to stare at him without reaction, which in turn seems to anger him.

“Perhaps, I shall teach you your place.” He hisses in a long growl.

Before he can reach for his wand, she slowly and carefully positions her hand like a finger gun pointing at him. He pauses tilting his head in confusion.

“Pow.” She whispers, jerking her finger gun back.

The top hat sign above his head shudders as the chains on top severe in an instant and the sign swings down, violently smacking him in the back of his purple turban, slapping it into his eyes as he curses viciously. Noctus easily and silently skirts around him, kicking him in the back of his legs as she passes and sending him to the ground in a tangle of purple robes and hissing rage. She twirls away and dodge rolls into the pet shop across the street, righting herself and striding purposely to the back of the shop, standing by the spider display, a blind spot where no one would see her from the front window.

_Crisis averted. No longer my problem._

“Can I help you?” Growls the man behind the counter, glancing at her suspiciously.

She tilts her head at him and observes, _Missing some fingers, and an eye, and some cheek. He's definitely well experienced._

She nods to him, “Looking for a snake.”

“Venomous?” He hums viciously.

She smiles, “As a pet. A Python, please.”

He nods with a wistful sigh, “Follow me.”

She chuckles eerily, “If it's any consolation, I'll come to you first thing if I'm planning to kill someone with a dangerous wild animal.”

“Thanks.” He says dryly as he leads her a little further back. “Here.”

He motions to a wall of heated tanks, bathed in inconsistent low fire light, the interiors teeming with various snakes, of all spectrums of colour, shade and size, snoozing, pressing against the glass, and stretching about. She hums and looks them over, catching small bits of their hissing, able to piece together some words throughout.

“who__”

“__smell”

“__bite___”

She eyes them carefully, differing one hiss from another with trained experience, and listening for something worth listening to.

“You'll get nuthin from me.” Huffs a voice in muddled English.

Noctus tilts her head and crouches down, lowering until she is nearly pressing her face to the floor as she looks into a tank nearly level with the ground. Inside is nearly pitch black and she can see the faded white silhouette of a smudged skull shape.

“Nuthin...” The snake gargles in English.

 _Intresting._ She smiles wide.

“I wouldn't bother.” The clerk sighs. “That one is too tricky. Won't let anyone buy them.”

“Hello” She hisses in Parseltongue, shocking the clerk.

“Speaker?!” Wildly writhes the other snakes.

“Ssspeak..er,” Grunts the strange snake in mixed language, leering forward a little, exposing its slightly small sleek black body.

It's a python of sorts, but she doesn't recognize the breed. The only inconsistency on its inky black form, is a smudged pearly white blur on it's face, shaped vaguely like a skull.

“Close.” She hisses back, “I know speaker.” She motions to them. “He teach me. He speak you. If you come.”

The snake coils a little forward again, its wide blue eyes piercing her, “Yea.” It speaks, before hissing again, “Yess, I'll come with you.”

She stands smoothly and smirks at the clerk, “I'll take him.”

The clerk looks her over carefully, before flicking his wand at the tank, the door slapping open and the snake swiftly slithering out. The snake coils up along Noctus leg smoothly, stretching himself up and around her shoulders after a bit of maneuvering. She carefully pats his little slim head and nods at the clerk.

He grunts, “103 Galleons.”

She bears her teeth when and huffs a laugh, “20 Galleons.”

“Tch.” He hisses walking past her to the counter, “100 Galleons.”

She rolls her eyes dismissively, “You want me to leave him here? How long will you hold on to a snake you can't sell?” She wanders up to the counter, “21 Glleons.”

“90 Galleons.” The clerk spits, “It's a rare species.”

“An unknown rare species, I don't even know how long it'll live or if there are any catches.” She shrugs, “30 Galleons.”

“I can assure you it is long living and will grow with care.” He snaps, “80 Galleons.”

“and yet I don't know where you found it....” She shakes her head with mock offence, “35 Galleons”

“It was found in a deserted and cursed forest, one of the last creatures alive. It's notoriously resilient.” He pounds his fist on the counter, “75 Galleons.”

“50 Galleons.” She tilts her head at him, “That doesn't instill confidence.”

“70 Galleons.” He looks away, with a sneer, “It can speak English partially. Its one of a kind.”

“Ssseventy.” Pipes up the snake from her shoulder, “S-Sssssseventyyyy.” It gags in English.

Noctus looks at her shoulder and nods, “70 Galleons it is.” She nudges her back pack off and roots around for the galleon bag, “Say whats the weirdest thing some one has ever bought from you?”

The clerk drums his slightly less fingers on the counter and shrugs at her, “A very rich noble I won't name, long time ago, ordered nearly 50 albino peacocks that I had to procure in a very short amount of time. I managed 37, and he nearly killed me, but his son vouched for me, reminding his father I was the only one of my trade.” He shakes his head and laughs in a creaky way, “Never seen or sold anything like it since.”

She gives him an impressed look, “Wild.”

“Prat.” The snake spits.

She coughs, choking on her laughter. “Better give me a tank and a blanket for this sucker.”

“Not a sucker!” He hisses.

“Course not.” She hisses back, before talking to the clerk again, “About that tank...”

\---

The light filters into his carrying box as the blanket above is shifted, and he raises his head, staring up at the opening to be met by large green eyes.

A high and excited voice rumbles around his tank. “Oh wow! This-this oh! ___thank you! I ___ it you're ___”

“Speaker?” He sighs curiously.

“Yes!” The voice chirps, eyes glittering, “I am the speaker! I'm Fern! Sorry, I'm excited.” He widens his eyes again, “You understand and speak English?”

“A little.” He gurgles in English, before hissing in response, “My tongue is easier.”

Fern chuckles a little, “Do you have a name?”

“I had one.” He hums, “It is gone now.”

“Do you want a new one?”

“Yes.”

“How about LilHiss?” Fern's eyes look off to the side, “It was the name of my first garden snake.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” He snorts, “My own name.”

“Yeah ok.” Fern pushes the blanket back a little more and he sees the boys wild black hair as he looks up to the others, “Hm? Naming him. ____ so? ___ok.” He looks back at him, “How about Midnight?”

“Meh.” He huffs.

“Darkness?”

“Ugh.”

“Shadow?”

“Hmmm.”

“Shade?”

“Oh...I like that.” He tilts his head back and purrs, “Shade.”

“We got a name!” Fern looks up at his parents again, “Shade! It's ___!”

“Teach me.” He hums to his new owner.

Fern looks back down, “Yes?”

“Teach me more?” He gasps in English.

“I will.” Fern nods before suddenly dropping the blanket back.

Shade stares up in the dim light before the world tilts and squeezes in an uncomfortable fashion.

He hisses in surprise, “Wuh, wat is dis???”

He hears Fern hum above in response. “Sorry we apperated.”

“Urg, never again.” He mutters.

“We'll talk about it.” Fern huffs in humour, “Let me introduce you to the garden snakes.”

“If we must...” He sighs dramatically.

It had been an eventful day. Shade expects a very eventful future as well.

\---

Regulus looks over the top of the book he's perusing to stare at Lucius, who is glaring at Severus in disbelief.

“Fern McJones is Harry Potter?!” He snaps his voice lilting up at the end.

Sirius dissolves into hyperactive laughter. Regulus presses his lips together and waits to reveal Lupin and Sirius surprise adventure in Diagon Alley.

 _Severus is going to love this..._ He thinks sarcastically, looking back at the page in front of him.

_Face Removal Spell._


	10. Last Day of Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer comes to a close and worries are expressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is Welcome.

Fern didn't realize how little time he had left until the summer was already gone. He had been very busy filling his final carefree days with things he loved and countless hobbies he didn't have before. He continued to fly his broom nearly everyday, visit the Crescent Bookshop and consistently help Noctus in the lab, but he now also had supplementary classes where he was learning to use his new wand, practising basic incantations and movements.

“The basics are important.” Noctus said with an excited gleam in her eyes, “Once you master the basic movements and Latin words you can make, evolve and even create spells.” She leaned forward to him tapping the side of her nose, “Never underestimate the power of even the simplest charm.”

He had been quick to latch on a few common use spells like Lumos, which created a small bulb of light on the tip of his wand, Alohomora the unlocking spell, Lubricum, which summoned a small jet of slippery goo, and the ever reliable Finite Incantatem, the universal counter spell. He was banned from using Alohomora unattended after he was caught practising on the neighbour's back door.

Outside of the lab and practice he delved into and soaked up all the info from his new textbooks and the more advanced texts Celeste had so thoughtfully purchased for the household. He was disappointed some texts were insubstantial, as his mothers had so politely put it. Specifically the potions textbook was horribly dense and had a very obtuse measurement system that made his eyes hurt. He packed it among his other textbooks for school, but got the feeling he would leave it buried in his trunk and focus on using his other potions texts instead. After all, Squid Gillamsquire had yet to fail him on even the most obscure potioneering knowledge.

It would seem like he had little time to do anything outside of becoming a novice expert in wizardry, but he still found lulls in his summer days and so filled them with more activities to avoid thinking too much. He took to teaching Shade English with a bit of struggle, as Shade was eager to learn but grew quickly frustrated with any resistance in his speech and many of their lessons led to Fern quietly trying to calm a dramatically writhing Shade as he hissed on the floor. The solution came in a familiar but strange place; the garden snakes.

The little pit of snakes that lived in the backyard were starstruck by the new addition to the household and took to him instantly despite his hissing, and it just so happened that Shade learned much faster when he had someone else to teach to. So Fern taught Shade something, who in turned practised and didn't throw a fit by teaching what he learned to the garden snakes, who watched and listened with glowing excitement. After a few months the garden snakes had also been taught, with Shade's help, to wield pens and write, although there attempts were nearly illegible. Fern's focus on the snake learning adventures had given him so much to handle, he was becoming great at not addressing the big worry lingering behind the glass walls in his mind.

_This is my first time leaving home. This will be the furthest and longest I'll be away from my family...._

Ma Celeste was taking it worse than he was. She kept her chin up and her posture formal, but she hovered by him more and more, and her intensity in her research notched up considerably. He supposed the sudden change in status made her eager to get involved but he worried about the amount of books she had on wizard blood purity, creature rights history and genetic disorders. She was keen to share knowledge with him and seemed to appear randomly to tell him fascinating tidbits and worry over him nearly every hour or so. She had a tendency to be relentless if she was interested or concerned

“The School Board?” Fern asked incredulously.

“Why not?” Celeste blinked at them coolly, scanning over a letter from Mr. Lupin.

Noctus shrugged at her, “...You think they might refuse you for being non magic?”

She smiled in a sweet and slightly scary way, “They will learn to make room for me.”

Neither of them dared argue with her on that.

Noctus on the other hand, seemed to not be worried at all, or if she was she didn't show it. When not working around the neighbourhood or schooling Fern, she had dedicated herself to teaching Edgar to deliver letters. Edger, despite being the relative shape and consistency of pancake batter, could fly surprisingly fast and could deliver letters and items with swift ease. The down side was he did not stop once he had started flying and as such he did not land, per say. It was unclear why. With Noctus' hectic schedule and her relaxed demeanour the only hint of worried was the sudden incline in her disappearing for sudden periods of time, which wasn't abnormal for her, but returning with more burn marks on her, was more so. She did not speak about it, but smiled to herself eerily sometimes.

In the grand scheme of things, Fern thought he was handling the inevitable departure the best out of all of them, but he was really just fooling himself, and as the sun sinks away on the eve of the final day and he wanders outside to fetch Shade from the backyard, his unavoidable worries start crawling out from under his wards.

“Shade!” He calls pausing to see him coiled up and talking to a bunch of attentive little snakes.

“Fern.” He nods his head at his class.

“Hello Fern.” They all chorus happily in garbled English.

Shade hums and continues, “Here is the pages they made.”

He motions to a pile of scrap paper scrawled with horribly messy writing scratched with poorly spelled with little phrases like Gud Luck, Yur Kool and We Will Mis U. The sight of it makes Fern's throat feel tight and he calms himself by smiling at the snakes and opening his arms.

“I'll miss you guys too.” He sighs.

The snakes hiss excitedly and quickly throw them selves at him in a strange snake based hug, coiling around his arms and face lovingly.

“We beilib in you.”

“Ye!”

“Go gettim.” They cheered in muddled language exuberantly.

Shade huffs, “Ok, ok, enough.” He glares at the snakes as he slithers up to full height, “No slacking off while I'm gone either. I expect results when I return.”

The garden snakes respond by flinging them selves on him and swarming in a hug pile, Shade hissing indignantly as Fern laughs and tries to fish him free.

As Fern and Shade wander back inside, Fern talks animatedly about packing and how they are getting to the school.

“The Hogwarts Express! I've never even been on a train before...”

“I don't want to go on the train.” Whined Shade.

Fern shifts the now slightly bigger snake in his arms and pets his head, “I'll let you sit with me, but you'll have to be quiet. Pets are supposed to be caged.”

“I will sleep and not make a peep.” Shade nods, before looking back as Fern falls quiet, “Wats the matter?”

Fern stares out the window and suddenly looks looks back at Shade, eyes flickering around with anxiety yet unspoken.

“Fern! Dinner!” Calls Celeste in a sing song tune as she sweeps downstairs “Oh, there you are. Shade will you join us?”

“Nah. I' mma head upstairs.” He snorts.

“Aye it's Pizza Time.” Noctus slides up on the kitchen counter, with a wicked grin.

Fern's worries subside, and he laughs at Noctus strange posing as he carefully lets down Shade who nods and slithers away upstairs. Noctus hums bizarrely and waves her hands like a conductor, plates dancing to the table with assorted cheese, meats, vegetables and pizza bread, as well as a small plate of mashed potato, for some reason. As they each construct there pizzas and the oven warms, Celeste prods him to put some vegetables on his and Noctus sighs at Celeste eating pineapple on hers.

“I love you sweetheart, but really?” Noctus groans at it.

“Oh hush.” Celeste chuckles, playfully slapping her arm.

As Noctus slides the tray into the oven, ignoring the appliance's rustling in it alcove, Edgar speeds into the room through the nearby open window. He smoothly circles over the table and then unceremoniously face plants into the only plate of mashed potatoes with a solid thud. As Fern quickly scoops Edger out, he twitches his little mash covered head around, curiously cooing and proudly holding out the little fake letter tied to his leg.

“I knew it!” Noctus yelps pointing at the pigeon accusingly, “He's doing it on purpose!”

Celeste immediately snorts in her drink and dissolves in to giggles, Fern and Noctus quickly following suit and falling into uproarious laughter by the sheer absurdity of it all. Fern places Edgar down and looks up at his mothers as they try to control them selves, Noctus hanging on to the kitchen counter with her high eerie laugh looping overhead, while Celeste puts her head down on the table to try and compose herself, her shoulders shaking. Fern feels the tightness in his throat again and swallows hard as his eyes begin to prickle.

 _Why am I crying?_ He thinks as he sniffs and roughly rubs his eyes.

Celeste looks up and her mirth quickly dissolves to worry, “Fern! Are you alright.”

“I-” He hiccups, “I'm going to miss you guys...”

Noctus recovers as well, “Oh, kiddo.” She stumbles over and crouches beside him, “We are going to miss you too...”

Celeste sweeps out of her seat and settles by him as well, cooing and patting his hair down, “We will only be a write away! If you need anything urgent you'll have one of the worms, I'll have the other on me at all...” She looks at the little red furry worm she had fished out of her dress pocket and her breath hitches as tears starts to pool in her eyes as well, “Oh dear...”

“Oh no, please, you guys know I sympathy cry...” Noctus huffs, smiling despite also starting to cry.

They huddle together, letting their tears flow and there worries float free, a small moment of catharsis for the anxiety they all feel, but did not wish to invoke. After a small while Fern pulls back to look at them.

“Hic. Sorry...” He smiles, feeling a little sheepish.

“Hey, no.” Noctus dries her eyes on her jacket sleeve, before handing a handkerchief to both Celeste and Fern, “We are all in this together, right?”

“I'm scared.” He admits into the skull print napkin, “And worried. About school. About you guys. About everything...” He shrugs and breaths deep, before looking at them with calmed trepidation, “What if something goes wrong? What if they see my scar anyway? What if I can't get to you?”

“We will always be here. And if you are in a spot and we can't get there soon enough,” Noctus looks at him with meaning, “Then follow the code.”

He gives a firm nods, “...Don't be afraid to fight back.”

Noctus smirks oddly, “Well yes but remember the other steps as well, peaceful solutions first and all that.” Celeste smooches him on the head and ropes them into a warm hug as Noctus continues, “Relax kiddo, it's going to be okay.”

Noctus is pulled away by the oven shimming and shaking at the alarm going off, and Fern simmers in Celeste's soft hold.

“I can't remember the last time I cried...” He admits out loud to no one in particulate.

Noctus hisses as she accidentally burns herself on the sheet pan.

“It's ok to cry every once and a while.” Celeste hums to him, smoothing his hair down again despite it's resistance, “Healthy even. It's no good to leave it all bottled up.”

Fern nods in agreement and the conversation returns to it's odd mundanity, his tears drying and his smile returning as Noctus shimmies the pizzas to the table and Edgar attempts to steal hers.

Yet despite the reassurances and the crying all out of his system, he didn't get a lot of sleep. His usual mantra to calm his mind was hampered by his excitement and fretting, the normal calm mist on the glass flurrying with swirls of disturbance. He eventually gives up on forcing it, knowing doing so was no good anyway. He folds out from under his covers and slips his knitted slippers on to go for a walk.

He wanders the darkened silent halls like a creeping spectre, corners and floors lit by the bright and pale moonlight glinting through the windows and along the walls like silvery shadows. After a bit of consideration, he pads up the stairs, past the lab and up the ladder. He peaks up to the third floor.

_Despite living here my whole life, still..._

He watches the red door carefully, the colour seeming to bleed off the wall despite the washed out night time shade. He approaches cautiously, placing his hand against it, his worries intermingling with his curiosity as the paintings fine smooth surface brushes underneath his fingertips. He sighs and leans his forehead to the ever closed door before quietly turning around and sitting in front of it, legs curled into his nightgown and out of the chill night air. He stares out the skylight above at the crescent moon and closes his eyes, letting the calm quiet night hum around him.

_I'm so excited, the friends, the opportunities, the possibilities...but what if things go wrong...I just need a little more reassurance..._

Suddenly, a thundering groan shudders through the house, a heavy deep sigh like the snore of a great beast shifting as it turns it's head to over and rests again. Fern stiffens at the abrupt noise, snapping his eyes open and waiting as eerie silence descends around him once more.

_...?_

He looks around silently as no more noise arrives, straining to hear or sense anything amiss. He yelps in surprise and nearly jumps out of his skin when a metal object lands on the floor in front of him with a soft clunk. Gathering his wits from his near heart attack he leans forward and reaches out to pick up a medium sized wrought iron key off the floor. It was very old and a rusted red colour, elegant entwines twisted and carved with many small designs and the overall object was strangely warm in his hand.

 _Huh. Where does this go?_ He looks up at the skylight, closed and still spilling moonlight, _And where did it come from?_

The key was tied on an odd leather string lanyard, with no clear break in it, and after a few moments of quiet deliberation, Fern carefully loops the lanyard around his neck, the key resting on his chest and radiating a soft warmth. He smiles down at it, and looks around for answers that are simply not there.

“Thanks.” He whispers into the air around him, and only silence answers.

He doesn't remember falling asleep in front of the door. One moment he is beginning to doze and considering returning to his bed, and then suddenly he is woken by familiar commotion in the house a few floors below and sunlight warming him.

“Fern!” Celeste calls from downstairs, “Darling, breakfast is ready!”

Fern bolts fully awake.

_Oh shoot! Today is the day!_

Fern tumbles up from his spot on the floor and slides downstairs, thundering to his room.

“I'm coming!” He yelps downstairs as he skids into the bathroom and tosses his clothes on.

He pauses in the bathroom mirror and applies a small cream Noctus had taught him to make, his lightning bolt scar disappearing under the thin layer of clear gel as it dries. He pats his hair down over his forehead anyway and stares at the key he had not taken off. He quietly taps it, feeling it still slightly hot to the touch and then quickly shoves it in his shirt, dismissing it as a curiosity for when he has the time.

He bounces downstairs, “Here!” He gasps as he lunges into his seat and quickly stuffs a pancake in his mouth.

He pauses when he notices half of them are burnt to nearly charcoal. He also notices the bacon is nearly black as well.

“Did you..?” Celeste looks up from the most recent issue of the Quibbler to raise an eyebrow at him and he smartly quiets, “Thanks. It looks mostly great.”

She smirks to herself and turns back to the paper, “By the time you return for the summer, I may be even able to cook eggs without starting a fire.”

Fern glances at the kitchen and sees the tell tail scorch marks on the curtains there.

“I have faith in you.” He says not being completely honest. “Where's Mum?”

“She has a surprise for us apparently.” Celeste hums.

Fern stares her as his eyebrows crawl up his forehead, “Uh oh.”

“Indeed.” She folds the paper up, “And she better hurry, or we'll miss the bus to London.”

Fern's curiosity starts to rise when a loud bang and rattling shudder can be heard from outside. Celeste locks eyes with him and they clamour for their coats to quickly shove out the front door.

Fern notices his things outside in the yard as he bobs down the porch steps, Shade snoozing lazily on his trunk lid, but more importantly, he notices a clunky beetle like maroon minivan rolling up to the house and rumbling oddly. It crookedly parks on the curb and coughs to a stop with a pitiful huff. Noctus kicks open the car door and slips out with a dramatic spin, ignoring the streaks of oil and grease on her wide eyed face.

“I found the car!” She announces grandly. “Behold! The Mom Van.”

Celeste and Fern exchange a concealed look.

“It's...” Fern winces and struggles to say something nice. “Smoking...”

“Eh?” Noctus hums glancing at the car before doing a double take at the wafts of white smoke billowing out of the cars hood, “AH!” She rushes to pop open the hood, ripping a wrench out of her waistband and casting a quick series of spells over the interior.

Celeste smiles warmly but her brow is furrowed, “Darling, it's lovely, but do you think it will make it to London without falling apart?”

“Course!” She coughs inside the car hood, “It just,” The smoke subsides a little and she pulls her head out with a wicked grin, “Needs a bit of persuasion.”

Fern looks it over carefully as the car shudders involuntary, “How did you get it? I thought we couldn't afford a car.”

“Some wizard bloke. He had no idea what he had.” She slaps the hood closed, “Got it for dirt cheap. Just needs some maintenance.” She smiles a crooked grin, the one that always glimmers with a bit of trouble.

Celeste and Fern trade another look.

Celeste looks back at the car skeptically, “I'm driving.”


	11. First Goodbyes and Interesting People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fern says goodbye to him parents and rides the Hogwarts Express.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is Welcome  
> This Chapter seems a little long, and I really hope I nailed the dialogue.

The ride through London was bumpy and fast, but Fern was occupied by the realization that he didn't know if either of his parents had driver's licenses. Fern held on tight, the loud rock music over the radio and Noctus cackling feeling appropriate, but despite his worries they made it to the train station in one piece. He mused aloud to them about there credentials, all blasé like, as Noctus grabbed his trunk and convinced Shade inside. He quickly learned some startling news as they strolled in to the station and past the turns dials.

“Our house used to be a car?!” He yelps indignantly.

Noctus shrugs, “A red convertible.” She glances off to side wistfully, “She was a bute.” Her gaze returns as she looks to Celeste and smiles warmly, “But we didn't want to raise you on the road.”

Celeste returns the smile and looks at Fern, “The rune is called Lautus Muto.” She nods thoughtfully, “It's the most complicated magic I've ever seen. I could probably find it before you return home for the summer.”

“...Our house is a transformer.” He huffs incredulously, “And I'm only hearing about this now!”

Noctus rolls her eyes and leans over his shoulder, “What's the platform again?”

Fern fishes the ticket out of his pocket and picks the lint off of it, “9 3/4?” He wrinkles his nose as they slow in between platforms 9 and 10, “Huh...”

Celeste tsks, “How- ugh, they do not explain things properly.”

Noctus points at the nearby pillar, “There's 9 and there's 10. Now what?” Her eyes shimmer as she grins wide, “Maybe I could-”

Celeste carefully nudges her, “Hold it.” She doesn't look but motions at the small swath of people wandering up the platform, “Wizards, 3'o'clock.”

The group was a family of red heads, a stout and bushy haired mother, a balding kind looking father, a pair of freckled twins, a younger man with a ponytail, fang earring and a dragon hide coat, another young man with tan skin and floppy hair, a taller boy with curly hair, a boy around his age with clothes a size too big, and a little girl carried in the woman's arms. There clothes were all mismatched, with some robes mixed in their their outfits and all pushing there trunks on trolleys, one sporting a harried looking brown owl.

_How has the wizard thing been kept a secret for so long?_

Fern doesn't think on it much more as the family stops by the pillar between the two platforms and Celeste shimmies him and Noctus over to greet them.

She announces herself with a cool grin, “Hello! Celeste McJones. Are you going to Hogwarts as well?”

The plump woman turns and brightens at them, “Well, hello! Molly Weasley! Oh it must be your first time.” She hums warmly.

“Guilty as charged.” Noctus huffs with a mock salute, “Noctus McJones. It's Fern's first year.” She laughs while ruffling his hair.

The older man sticks out his hand to shake hers, eyes practically dancing, “Arthur Weasley. It's Ron's first year as well, but all of our boys have gone to Hogwarts.”

Celeste's eyes soften as she gauges the group and her posture relaxes a little, “Oh lovely. We are looking for Platform 9 3/4 but were not quiet sure how to get there.”

“Oh of course.” Molly laughs sheepishly before turning to the taller boy with curly hair, “Percy dear? Could you please go first and show the McJones how to get to the platform?”

He nods to her shortly, and carefully drives his cart to be facing the pillar dividing 9 and 10. He starts at a quick walk towards the pillar picking up speed a bit at the end as he passes right into the brick wall like a mirage, disappearing inside. Fern lets out a little gasp of surprise, mimicked by Celeste

“Oh!” She hums with a thin grin, “Fascinating.”

Molly smiles at them and quickly motions to one of the twins, “Fred you next.”

The twin balks at her, “I'm not Fred! I'm George?”

The other twin shakes his head, “And you call yourself our mother.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh, “Oh goodness, I'm sorry George.”

The first twin, already ready to charge the barrier, smiles at her ruefully, “Heh, only joking. I am Fred!”

He laughs as he runs at the pillar, passing through the fake wall with his twin close behind. Molly shakes her head with a huff and Celeste nods at the pillar.

“Perhaps we should give it a try, Mrs. Weasley? We're terribly sorry for intruding.” Celeste shrugs at her in a participated, but easy movement

“Molly please.” She hums happily, “And it's no trouble at all.”

“Thanks Molly.” Noctus chuckles, before looking at Fern with a wicked grin. “Ready Fern?”

Fern looks at the divider and nods his head a little, taking his mothers hands as Noctus shoves his trunk under her free arm and they ready themselves. He takes a deep breath and they quickly walk towards the divider, bouncing up to a jog as they rush to meet the brick wall. Just as they connect with it, there is a gust of air as the illusion swims past them and Fern is gobsmacked as they stride on to the platform of a massive red locomotive, billowing steam and huffing in preparation.

“Wow!” He gasps, as he stares up at the train and then glances around at the platform, bustling with parents giving tearful goodbyes and kids swarming around in a large mob.

“What a beauty!” Noctus crow at the steam engine, a familiar flash of mirth in her eyes quickly subsiding as she too glances around, “Hey isn't that...?”She points off to the back.

Celeste follows her gaze and her eyes light up with silver, her grin twisting curiously, “It is.”

Fern follows their attention and spies a small family of three, a tall man in elegant robes and stunning long platinum hair, a refined lady in similar dress with hair tied in a beautiful plait, and a boy with familiar bright blond hair, who just had to be Draco. Despite the sheer upper class the family exuded, he can see a pang of worry in the parents eyes as they talk to their son and send him on his way, Draco quickly disappearing in the crowd, their eyes following after him. They talk to each other with a nervous glance and Fern looks around to see most of the Weasley family had exchanged good byes and parted as well, a line of red haired children hurrying on to the train. He stares at the track ahead and takes another deep breath, Noctus carefully squeezing his shoulder.

“Nervous kiddo?” She huffs, still grinning .

“I am.” He looks up at them and nods, “I can do this.” He says firmly.

Celeste combs her hands through his hair, as Noctus talks on, “If all else fails, stick with the code. and remember peace is always the best option.” Noctus glances up and suddenly her grin grows wide and sharp, “Whoa check it out! Lord Malfoy is about to get in a fist fight with Mr. Weasley!”

Fern looks back to the spot from before, and Sure enough, Draco's father, Lord Malfoy, is staring down at Arthur Weasley with a hateful sneer while his wife hovers at his side muttering to him. Arthur Weasley meanwhile glares back hotly, hands balled into fists, and Molly holding him by his arm and scolding him to stop it this instant.

Celeste's eyes snap sharp again as she takes in the scene, “Oh my. I should go over there and try to stop them.” She smiles a thin grin behind her hand, “Or I could wait and land another I-thought-you'd-be-better-than-that on him. He would hate that...”

Fern tilts his head at her, “Aren't you and Lord Malfoy friends?”

Celeste looks down on him with a curious hum, “In high society there aren't really friends. Just networking and favours.” She shrugs to him with an airy sigh, “But, I guess if he stays on my good side, maybe.”

Fern nods slowly, _this sounds a little beyond me._

He looks back at the train, “I better board soon.” He calms his nerves and shuffles a little, “See you later alligator?”

The two break away from watching the confrontation and pull Fern into a warm tight hug that smells like leather, engine oil, lavender and burned pancakes.

Celeste eyes grow misty as she put her hands on his face, “In a while crocodile.” She pecks him on the head and holds on for dear life, “You are going to be alright.”

Noctus quickly rubs her eyes and gleams at him with a wide grin, “Write to us kiddo.” She laughs eerily and musses his hair affectionately, “And knock 'em dead.”

He sniffs, and swallows his tears, looking up in determination.

“Love you guys.”

“Love you too.” They both mutter, as they gave him one more prolonged hug, and then let him slip from their grasp.

He looks back quiet a few times as he swims into the crowd and hops on the train, but it hurts to see Celeste waving and smiling despite the tears threatening to spill and Noctus hooting to cheer him on, her own tears unrestrained. He rolls his luggage up to a nearby train window and looks out, seeing his mothers still waving when a commotion breaks out.

They all glance around to the shouting as Mr. Weasley lunges at Lord Malfoy, who shoves him, and the two collapse to the ground in a flurry of robes and wrestling. Draco's mother just nurses her head in her hands while Molly screeches at her husband to stop scaring Ginny, the two elder Weasley sons, carefully trying to separate their father from the fight.

“Woohoo!” He looks to the side and sees Ron cheering from the nearby window, “Get him dad!”

The twins stand beside him laughing at the calamity.

“Do not encourage him!” Molly snaps at them while fishing out her wand.

Fern watches the display and looks over as the taller Weasley, Percy, already wearing his school robes, walks up to his brothers at the window, completely ignoring the fight outside.

“I'm going up front with the Prefects-” He says in a clipped tone and is quickly cut off.

“Oh, You're a Prefect?!” One of the twins gasps in mock surprise.

“We had no idea?!” The other gasps at the same time, “You should have said something.”

“Well hang on Fred,” The first, presumably George hums, resisting grinning, “I think I remember him mentioning it once...”

“Twice...”

“Three times...”

“All summer...” They chorus together.

“Oh shut up.” Percy mumbles as his cheeks dust pink and he storms off past his chuckling twin brothers.

Fern looks back out the see the fight has subsided, Lord Malfoy looking a little harried but carrying himself proudly, although judging by the slight wince he gives as Celeste shimmies up, regret is inbound. The other half is wholly distracted by Noctus preforming a non magical magic trick to distract the frightened little Ginny Weasley, who squeals in surprise at the bizarre slight of hand, although Mr. Weasley is even more impressed and starts bombarding Noctus with a flurry of questions, the fight he was just in seemingly forgotten as Noctus responds in kind.

Fern's heart feels heavy as the train whistle sounds the beginning of it's journey and he shouts out over the high pitch echo.

“Bye Mum! Bye Ma!” He calls.

Celeste looks away from Lord Malfoy and waves at him, “Good bye darling! Be safe! Stay out of trouble!”

“Or at least don't get caught!” Noctus shouts over the train steam.

Celeste looks over and hisses at her, “Noctus!”

“Sorry.” Noctus coughs before shouting, “Find loopholes instead!”

“Noctus!!” Celeste stifles a laugh and bats at her arm before calling out to Fern again, wiping her tears aside, “Please don't do anything arrest able or mortally dangerous!”

“No promises!” He shouts back with a laugh and the train begins to pull away, “Love you!”

He waves and waves as the train quickly starts to build up speed and rolls away, his mothers' last goodbyes lost in the whistle as it blows to announce their departure.

 _Here goes nothing..._ He thinks to himself as his parents and the platform disappear behind the engines billowing steam, and the rushing scenery fills his vision instead. He lingers by the window, staring at the houses as they flicker past.

_I can do this..._

“Fern.” Demands a voice right beside him.

“Ah!” He jumps a little and stumbles before turning to a familiar sharp face, “Oh Draco! Sorry I was caught up.” He hurries on, “Uh, I didn't grab a compartment, I was kinda distracted.”

They boy waves his hand dismissively, “It's fine. I already found one.” He nods behind him and smiles a little, “Come on.”

Fern smiles brightly and pauses, “Oh, uh, who are they?”

Draco doesn't acknowledge the girl and two boys that had arrived behind him, the girl with a meaner looking face and the two boys twice his size and staring at them vacantly.

 _I wonder if they would be friends with me..._ Fern hums to himself doubtfully.

Draco doesn't look back at all as he tugs Fern past them and says firmly, “My parents know their parents.”

Fern waves at them as he passes, pulled along by Draco, “Ah ok?”

The three follow them a little down the train but do nothing but glare at Fern as Draco tugs him a long to a compartment and carefully shoves him inside.

He flashes Fern a fake smile, “I'll be right back.”

“Hm? Alright.” Fern says as Draco has already closed the door on him.

Fern looks around at the cozy compartment and thinks.

_That was weird right? I wonder why Draco is so wary of them..._

Fern shrugs to himself and places his trunk on the seat, humming his password to open it.

“Fight Back.” The trunk lid pops open.

He wanted to make it, “Don't be afraid to fight back,” but the password could only be two words long.

He lifts the lid and instantly, Shade dramatically leans out of the trunk room, moaning.

“I do not like the moving machine!” He hisses in exasperation.

“Yeah I figured.” Fern carefully scoops him out and lays him on the seat, “Quiet, yes?”

Shade grumbles as he slips out of his hands and coils up on the red cushions, “I will sleep out here, vexed, but quiet.”

“That's the spirit.” Fern laughs giving him a reassuring pat, “We'll be there before we know it.”

_I'm I reassuring him or myself?_

He closes the trunk and presses the button, opening it again to be met with the smaller trunk space packed with his basic uniform and a few books he likes having quick access to. He pulls out the old reliable potions book and places it down to read when the compartment opens again and Draco sweeps in.

“So.” He says snapping the door shut and looking at Fern coolly, “You have it?”

Fern grins at him, acting sly, “Do you?”

Draco tosses his head with a smirk and pulls his trunk down, snapping it open, and swiftly pulling out a small leather tube like case. He carefully opens it as Fern leans to look, and inside is a small elegant broom, shrunken to be hidden in the smaller space.

Fern whistles, “Wow. That's a new Nimbus 2000, yeah?”

He glows with pride, “It was just released this year. It the fastest model around.”

“It's pretty high end.” Fern hums, batting down the small envy in his system.

He turns and flicks his own trunk back to the trunk room, leaning in and fetching the well worn broom by the ladder.

He holds it up to Draco who looks at it with vague disappointment, “It's a fairly common broom yeah? Comet 260.”

“It was a gift and I like it.” Fern shrugs as he casually spins it in his hands, “Got it from a cool old witch lady for my birthday.”

Draco rolls is eyes but Fern notices a vague reluctance in him before he glances behind him and stares at the seat by his trunk, “Is that a snake?”

Fern glances behind himself at Shade, who opens his eyes briefly to stare at them and then folds his head away to snooze.

“Oh this is Shade.” Fern waves at him, “He's some kind of python. He's pretty smart.”

Draco jerks his chin at him, with a smirk, “Guess you didn't get him at the Magical Menagerie?”

Fern tosses his broom back into his trunk and snorts, “That place? What a joke. I didn't realize wizard standards on health would be so low....”

“Right!” Draco agrees quickly kicking into his seat and settling with his back straight and cool, “Which is why my family frequents the Knockturn shop.” He boasts easily. “They have better quality.”

“And less legal tape.” Fern nods as he sits across from him sinking into the cushions, “My mum bought a decoration made out of a real human pelvis. Each place has its pros and cons.”

Draco looks off to the side, “You think having a human pelvis is a con?”

Fern chuckles, “It's less the pelvis and more where it may have come from that worries me. She hung it in the library.” He pauses before continuing easily, “Say uh, why didn't you want me to meet your...acquaintances?”

Draco doesn't answer instantly, acting cool although he doesn't meet Fern's gaze.

“They wouldn't like you.” He says with odd confidence, before shrugging dismissively, “It's not your fault.”

Fern hums and casually says, “Ah. Is it a blood thing?”

He looks away in a little cagey movement, muttering “Sort of...” Before sighing dramatically and rolling his eyes, “Lets forget it for now, I just want to enjoy the ride.”

Fern kicks his feet, “Fair.” He leans forward, eyes alight, “Want to see my wand!? Noctus taught me a bunch of spells!”

“Please!” Draco responds relaxing suddenly, “Here's mine.” He flicks his wrist and pulls out a thin light wood wand, “It's hawthorn and unicorn hair. I know countless spells, I've been trained since I could hold a wand.”

Fern looks it over with a impressed hum, slipping out his own wand, “Cool! Mines holly and phoenix feather. Shame I only got mine a few months ago, but I was learning about spells and such way before.”

Draco scoffs and chuckles, “Can you imagine not knowing about magic?”

Fern shakes his head with a low whistle, “Yeah. It must be really tough to know nothing about it and then be suddenly thrown in to all this by the seat of your pants. What a shock that would be.” He overlooks Draco blinking like he does when he is thinking hard and continues, “I can do several spells successfully already. Wanna see?”

Draco recovers and motions to him, “Go on. Impress me.”

Fern wiggles a little in his seat and takes a breath as he readies his wand. He opens his mouth to say something and is cut off by the compartment slamming open and starling them.

A girl stands in the doorway, already dressed in her school robes, her trunk in hand, and wildly bushy brown hair coerced into a frizzy pony tail.

She speaks in a quick and slightly demanding tone, “Is anyone sitting here?” She spies Fern with his wand out the ready and her dark eyes sparkle, “Oh are you doing magic? Let's see it then.”

She says this while striding in and sitting beside Draco looking at Fern expectantly, and ignoring the scathing glare Draco is throwing at her.

Fern looks at Draco with a shrug, “Uh okay?” He clears his throat and swishes his wand in a small loop, “Lumos.”

The tip of his wand glows alight uneasily and remains on with a soft white glow before he gives his wand a quick tap.

“Nox.” He smiles at them, wiggling his hands, “Ta Da!”

“Wow, incredible.” Draco snorts blandly before leaning forward, “Can you do anything else?”

The girl looks at Draco with a narrowed look, “Can you?”

“Of course!” Draco abruptly turns his his head to glare at her and looks genuinely affronted, “What about you then?”

She smiles at him and snaps her wand out, quickly swishing it, “Lumos.” Her wand tip brightens without hesitation and extinguishes just as easily, before she tilts her head at him, “Now you....”

Draco cuts her off with a flourish if his wand, “Lumos!” The tip of his wand blinks on fiercely and he extinguishes it just as dramatically, “There, incredible, lets do something harder.” He thinks and grins in a cat like way, “Incendio?”

The girl startles at him with a frown, “On a train?”

He speaks almost disdainfully, “Scared, uh...” He falters.

“Granger.” She intones in bossy formality, “Hermione Granger.”

Fern speaks up, “I think what Hermione is suggesting is perhaps starting a fire on the train is a bad idea.” He waves at her with a relaxed smile, “Fern McJones by the way.”

Draco rolls his eyes ad huffs, “Fine. How about Aqua Eructo? And it's Draco Malfoy, for your information.”

“Fine.” She harrumphs, “You first.”

Draco doesn't hesitate to point his wand up and announce, “Aqua Eructo.” A small jet of water spouting from the tip of his wand and promptly spilling on the front of his school robes.

He hisses at this, before instantly playing it cool and turning to Hermione, “Your turn.”

She pulls a plastic bottle out of her trunk and point her wand into it, “Aqua Eructo.”

Water spill into the bottle, filling it to nearly half by not spilling a drop, and she smiles proudly. Draco scrutinizes her handiwork closely, blinking furiously before turning away with a disgruntled huff.

Fern watches them with a small smile and twirls his wand in his fingers, “My turn? Uh ok...” He motions to the bottle and Hermionie tilts her head at him and then hands it over.

“Aqua Eructo.” He hums, and a small squirt of water spills into the bottle and a little off the side, before he smiles up at them.

Draco nods smartly and Hermione looks sideways at him with a stern stare, “Aqua Eructo is not a first year spell by the way.”

Draco shrugs and conceals a smirk, “I know, it was supposed to be a challenge.”

Fern stares at them blankly, “It's not a first year spell?” He groans in disbelief as he remembers Noctus wicked grin and clever eyes, laughing eerily, “Damn, Noctus! she tricked me!”

Draco raises his eyebrows, “She tricked you into learning a more advanced spell?”

He chuckles lowly, “You'd be surprised.”

Hermione jumps into the conversation, “Well I've been trying all sorts of spells to practice and I haven't failed one yet. Nobody in my family is magic at all, it really was a shock when I got my letter, but I've learnt all the textbooks by heart, I just hope its enough...”

She said this all in one breath and it took the two of them a second to recover.

“You've memorized the textbooks?” Draco laughs loudly in disbelief, “I didn't even buy most them.”

Fern looks at him in surprise, “Really? I mean I get it, the potions book is dense as sin, but wouldn't just having them be useful?”

“As a paper weight maybe.” He snorts.

Hermione meanwhile is aghast, “You didn't buy the books?!” She yelps, “But they're mandatory!”

Fern wrinkles his nose at her, “Again, have you read the mandatory text for potions?”

“Well, I mean-” She stammers, “It's a little dry, but it's mandatory.”

Draco tilts his head back to stare at her in vague interest, “I'm a little impressed you somehow learned anything from it.”

Fern chuckles and holds up his now favourite book, “I've been using this book instead.”

Hermione's eyes light up and sparkle like Christmas lights, and she instantly bolts to the seat beside him, absentmindedly nudging Shade a little, who hisses indignantly.

Draco startles at her speed and then frowns down at the book cover scanning it closely. “Squid Gillamsquire? Never heard of him.”

Fern flips the book open, flicking to a random page about Polyjuice Potion.

“The book is sort of a classic recipe book, but it has these strange footnotes that go on for pages, and the author talks in near riddles. The thing is, it sounds like nonsense at first, but the more you read it, the more it makes sense.”

Hermione hadn't said a word, but by her pressing right up against him and twitching her hands in resistance to touch the book, Fern assumes she is impressed, and holds it out to her. She carefully snaps the book out of his hands, scanning it ravenously, as Draco scoots closer and stares over Fern's shoulder as he begins to point out more cool foot notes.

For the next few hours they combed not only Fern's reading storage, but Draco's small select book collection and the veritable library of both muggle and wizard books Hermione had somehow managed to coerce into her overstuffed trunk, without magic. Draco was quick to provide hints on how to make her trunk more organized, in exchange for the pride of her begrudgingly thanking him, and they both marvelled at the small room Fern had made in his trunk room, with a mini fridge to boot. Talking about their upcoming courses and pointing out inconsistencies between the textbooks and other references was interrupted by a soft knock at the door and an old lady with a candy trolley poking her head in.

“Candy from the trolley dear?” She asks in a warm tone.

Fern looks up from _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander, and after considering, fishes out a small purse from his jacket coat pocket, “Sure I'll buy some.”

“No thanks.” Hermione huffs firmly.

Draco thinks a lot longer than either of them, before slipping his more expensive book back into his trunk and following Fern “Well, what do you have?”

Fern only buys some small things to share with his cabin mates, even if he gets the feeling Hermione disproves, and he is urged by Draco to buy specific things that won't mess up their books. He ends up buying some Dragon Claws, a Skeletal Sweet and Squirmy Gummy Worms that actually wriggle. He did also buy some Cockroach Clusters, but solely so he could send them back to Noctus and Celeste who he knew would get a kick out of it. Fern nibbles the skeleton lolly while Draco fights with the packaging on the gummy worms.

Hermione tuts disapprovingly, “That stuff rots your teeth.”

Fern pops the skeleton shaped lollipop out of his mouth and shrugs at her, “But it tastes good, and I clean my teeth regularly.”

“But do you floss.” She hums accusingly.

Draco snorts and wrestles with the now escaping gummy worms, “What are you the teeth police?”

“No.” She huffs before looking off to the side, “My parents are dentists.”

Draco blinks at her, ignoring the worms, “They're what?”

Fern points the little grinning skeleton at Draco, “Dentists. They are non magic people that fix teeth.” He pauses and hums, “I actually don't know if there is a magical equivalent. The whole health and wizards thing is weird.”

Draco furrows his brow, “There is...I think...” He shakes his head dismissively, “I mean, I'm sure there is, but I've never had to visit them.”

Hermione narrows her eyes at him, “How do you clean your teeth then?”

He rolls his eyes with an amused scoff, “Duh. We use Minty Strips like civilized people.”

Before Hermione can ask, Draco quickly fishes a small package of foil wrapped green sticks and holds them up to her. Fern carefully takes them from Draco and looks them over.

“Oh yeah, it's like gum but it actually cleans your teeth. My mum sells it to dentists in our area.”

Hermione leans into their personal spaces, her eyes flashing.

“How do you make them?!” She gasps urgently, “Please? It's not in the textbook.”

Draco hums and haws, acting coy, “Oh now suddenly the textbooks are subpar...”

She bats at him in agitation, “Oh come on please-”

The ensuing back and forth is cut off by the door suddenly slamming open, revealing a heavier set boy with unfortunately bowl cut black hair and a freckled red head Fern recognizes as Ron Weasley.

Ron starts loudly talking before the door is even fully open, “Hey have any of you seen a toad...” He trails off and stares at Draco, eyes hard.

Draco doesn't look at him, suddenly very cold and formal, “No we haven't.” He snaps bluntly, “Leave.”

The other boy squeaks, stuttering as he becomes obviously anxious, “T-Thanks! We'll check else where-”

Ron cuts the other boy off and shouts at Draco, “What? Got nothing to say after what your father pulled?!”

Draco speaks icily and continues to not look at him, “I don't know what your talking about.”

Ron spits at him, stepping in to the compartment and crowding into his space, “Your dad attacked my dad!”

Draco snaps his glare to him, “Your father attacked first!” He digs his nails into the cushions, “My father was defending himself.”

“That's rich coming from you!” Ron balls his hands into fists, “He doesn't even need a reason to attack people-”

Draco shoots to his feet and gets right up in Ron's face.

“Shut up.” He hisses with absolute venom, “Unless you want to eat your words.” He tilts his head back and his mouth twists into a vicious smirk “Which I'm sure is more than what you usually get to eat at home...”

Ron grabs the front of Draco's robes and Fern quickly intervenes, ignoring the cold worry in his stomach.

He shoves them apart “Woah!” He speaks low and fast as he looks at Ron and the other boy, “We haven't seen any toads we'll tell you if we do. Please don't randomly attack my friend.”

Ron turns his head to scowl at him with disgust, “Friends? with Him?”

Draco looks down his nose at Ron and smirks.

Hermione leaps up and scolds loudly “Yes, we are. And you did attack us.” She points at the door and commands, “Please leave.”

Ron's face turns bright red and he turns and storms off, practically dragging the other boy with him.

Draco turns to Fern and frowns thinly, “I didn't need you to defend me, McJones.”

He nods to him, “And I didn't want you to get in detention before we even reach the school.” Draco looks away and Fern closes the compartment door, “Although what is his problem?”

Hermione sits back down, he ponytail bobbing, “I saw that fight on the platform.” She looks at Draco out if the corner of her eye, “Was that really your dad?”

Fern sees Draco instinctual hunch his shoulders and he huffs at Hermione, “Enough.” He looks at Draco and talks casually, “Yeah it was. But it's not really our business right now.”

Draco looks at him, tilting his head, “Wait, how do you know that?”

“The hair is kind of a dead give away.” Fern chuckles before continuing, “And my mum and your dad have met before, apparently.”

Draco absorbs this info with significantly raised brow and Hermione addresses Fern with furrowed expression.

“You keep saying Mum and Ma...” She asks slowly.

“I have two mothers.” Fern nods and his mouth tugs into a small smile, unbidden, “They were the two yelling at me to not get in trouble or don't get caught at least....”

“Oh, so they aren't your real parents then.” Hermione responds bluntly.

Fern stares at her in an extended uncomfortable pause, his smile turned frosty and his eyes glacial, “Well no, not really since my original parents were murdered and then my guardians abandon me on a cold doorstep.”

She shrinks away from him instinctually, “O-oh.” She whispers as she drops her gaze, “I'm sorry...”

_I probably shouldn't have told them that. It's alright, keep moving don't draw attention to it._

“It's fine.” He sighs and shakes his head, clearing the small veneer of rage that had gripped him, “You just struck a nerve with me.” He smiles at her, placating her worries and sitting beside her “You mess up, you apologies, I forgive you, we try again.” He looks up at Draco as he sits down beside him and shrugs to the room at large, “Works for everyone.”

The conversation lulls as the sun starts to set, and the three of them ease into offhand bookish conversation as they nibble the rest of the candy, although many of the worms had long since escaped. In a brief pause, Hermione and Draco sort of talk, but mostly watch as while Fern struggles to throw his robes on, knit sweater and light jacket discarded back in his trunk. The brief pause was bookended by Draco reeling at Fern usage of a clip on tie.

Hermione's musing interrupts the bafflement, “I don't really know what house I want to be in.” She looks at them, “What about you two?”

Draco latches on to the conversation and boasts, “Slytherin. It's the best house. We've won the house cup six years running.”

“Your not even in the house yet...” Hermione mutters.

“Hufflepuff.” Fern says with no preamble.

Draco hums curiously, “You're still going to do that?”

Fern chuckles, “Why the hell not?” He nods and his eyes flash in mischief, “It'll be funny.”

Hermione looks between them, “I don't follow...”

“They never win the house cup though.” Draco scoffs as he dramatically sprawls himself on the seat, “Of course it usually ends up being a grudge match between Gryffindor and Slytherin anyway. And we are at a disadvantage, with the school favouring Gryffindor and all.” He smirks and flicks his hair despite it being gelled back, “But we always pull through.”

_Why even have a points system if the game is bias anyway?_

Fern wrinkles his nose and flops down in his seat, “Wow, the points system sounds kinda rigged.”

“Rigged?” Draco asks with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione responds with an informative tone, “It means the system is basically manipulated to always have the a certain outcome from the start, but is portrayed like there is some chance for a different outcome, when their really isn't.”

Draco laughs at this and then sort of fades off when he really thinks about it. The silence is interrupted by a timid knock on the compartment door. They all trade a look and Fern gets up to answer, sliding the door open a crack. Outside is the boy from before that was with Ron, although his is alone, unfortunate hair cut and wringing his hands.

“H-Hey.” He says a little too loud and then suddenly quieter, “S-sorry about earlier...”

Fern sighs and smiles easily, “It's not your fault, uh...”

He murmurers, “Neville...”

“Fern, nice to meet you.” He watches as the boy shuffles a little less, “You didn't do anything wrong. I'll keep an eye out for your toad.”

The boy nods urgently, “Trevor, uh yeah...” The boy suddenly turns to leave.

“Hey, wait.” Fern taps his arm gently, “Which house do you want to be in?”

The boy stutters looking away, “My Gran would kill me if I didn't get into Gryffindor.”

Fern tilts his head at him, “Well I asked which house you wanted to get into, not which one your Gran wanted.” He flashes a thumbs up, “I'm going to aim for Hufflepuff. No great expectations, and I hear the common room is cozy.”

The boy nods again, and blinks, “H-Huh y-yeah...” He pulls back again, muttering anxiously, “I uh gotta go...”

Fern waves him off, “Just food for thought.” He calls after him, “Later Neville.”

He pulls back in to the compartment and look at is two new friends, shrugging to them when a voice echoes through the train.

“The Hogwarts Express will be arriving at Hogwarts Station in five minutes. Please leave your luggage behind, it will be taken separately.”

Fern winces a little and looks down at Shade who lifts his head at him.

“Shoot.” He hums, quickly going over and holding open his cloak pocket, “In you go.”

Shade stretches his head over to look into the dark alcove, before carefully sliding into his pocket, coiling into the larger space easily and heavily.

Hermione shakes her head incredulously, “You're bringing it with you?!”

Fern dusts his pocket and makes sure there is no obvious signs Shade is hiding in his cloak, “He'll be quiet.” He looks at Hermione with an evaluating look, “Why? You planning to tell on me?”

She opens her mouth to respond but stalls, “W-Well...”

Draco narrows his eyes at her, “You are aren't you.” He accuses silkily.

“I won't!” She argues ruffling back to a firm form, “It is a well behaved pet...”

Fern smiles at her and holds his fingers up to his lips, “No one will notice, trust me.”

The sound of the train tires screeching, halts anymore conversation and the compartment sways smoothly as it pulls into the station.

They hurriedly stuff there items back into their trunks, click them closed and slip out into the urgently trickling stream of students as they quickly start to spill off the train and on to the platform. Fern looks back to keep track of his new curious acquaintances, glancing back at Hermione's voluminous frizzy ponytail and Draco's glowing blond gelled hairstyle. He feels a warmth coiling in his stomach, excitement, anxiety and worry slowly rumbling underneath his cool surface.

 _Just don't freeze up,_ He commands to himself.

He shimmies forward through the crowd easily and prepares to step off into a completely new world, but at least he's not alone.


	12. Hats Off to the Brave New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fern arrives at Hogwarts, is sorted and meets some new freinds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is Welcome  
> I bit off more than I could chew with this chapter so it is long, and I even had to split it up.

“Firs' years! Firs' Years over here!” Calls a man that Fern can call nothing short of enormous.

The huge, burly giant of a man with a wild dark beard and long hair towers over them and looks down on Fern, Draco, Hermione and the other first years as they pool up around him like lost ducks with a glimmer of warmth and fondness in his gaze.

“Well I am Rubeus Hagrid, I am the Groundskeeper at Hogwarts and I'm going to be leading you on your first time up to the castle.” He beams with pride as he talks and then motions to the gaggle of first years, “Follow me! An' stay on the path.”

That was easier said than done as Hagrid lead them down a slightly muddy overgrown path barely see able in the low lamp light, the herd of children trailing after the giant figure in an awkward half-jumble, half-queue.

Draco leans close to Fern and whispers to him, “I heard Hagrid got expelled from Hogwarts and Headmaster Dumbledore only keeps him on the staff out of pity.”

Fern quirks his head at Draco, “Oh? What he'd get expelled for?”

Draco shrugs, “No idea. He probably murdered someone.”

Fern rolls his eyes at the Draco's dramatic air, “Well it couldn't have been that bad if he's allowed to chaperone first years.”

Hermione nudges between them, “He's the Groundskeeper right? That means he has to keep track of the Forbidden Forest, which is full of wild magical creatures.”

“Why is the school right beside a very dangerous forest anyway?” Fern sighs with a wince as his companions both share a blank look, “Well I guess I feel a little safer knowing the groundskeeper probably has the gumption to wrestle most beasts into submission.”

Draco gives a shallow nod, “I suppose...”

They come to a small docking area, a small pond of water saddled with numerous wooden rowboats and shadowed by lots of towering foliage and drooping branches.

“No more tha' four to a boat!” He calls as the kids scramble to claim their transport, landing Fern, Hermione and Draco with Neville, who couldn't find anyone else to sit with. Fern and Hermione search around for any ores to row with while Draco and Neville watch them curiously.

“Alrigh'” Hagrid nods shining down on all of them with his lantern high in the air.

He fishes a pink umbrella from his shaggy brown fur coat and taps it on his boat before pointing ahead into the underbrush.

“Forward!” He bellows grandly.

The boats all trail along after his lead, smoothly drifting on to the glass like surface with dancing ripples. They are tugged into the whispering reeds and cypress tress, which shimmy around them eerily, before they sail out the other side and on to the surface of an expansive crystal clear lake. Fern looks up and his breath catches as he takes in the stunning visage of a massive old castle, resting on a towering cliff side, the imposing stone structure alight with the warm orange glow of torches and the cool pale light of the stars in the moonless sky cast overhead. A large shadow in the water glances beneath their convoy to the surprised cries of many children, and Hermione rocks their boat a little as she watches the inky behemoth figure pass.

She gasps excitedly, “That's probably the Giant Squid. It lives in the Black Lake on the Hogwarts Grounds.”

The wisdom of a giant squid living by a school aside, Fern simply nods to prove he's listening and focuses on the reflection of the school on the water. At the sight of the castle glistening in the almost void like surface, Fern feels so infinitely small, like a lone traveller standing in the shadow of a great slumbering dragon, and to settle the somersaults of worry in his stomach, he reaches up and gently taps the key still hidden under his shirts, the soft warmth bleeding on to his finger tips and easing his mind, reminding him of home.

_I can do this. I'm going to become a great wizard, and I'm going to make it through this place without getting found out._

The boats glide into a low ceiling cave, obscured by tangled sleepy vines, and their momentum slows to a crawl as they slip into the mountain's underbelly. Hagrid quickly ties them to the rickety docks resting on the caves pebble shore, as the children spill out of the boats muttering amongst themselves in awe and intrigue. Fern checks his seat, in case he had dropped anything, and pauses when he sees a slipper looking silhouette hiding under the middle bench. He reaches under and fishes out a slippery fat little toad that reminds him fondly of Edgar.

“I found a toad.” He announces to the group at large, and Neville tearfully lights up.

“Trevor!” He cries wistfully, gently scooping the toad out of Fern's hand and whispering feverish thanks.

Hagrid looks on with mirth and taps his umbrella towards a wooden door embedded in the cave wall, “Everyone ready? All pets recovered? Alrigh', follow me.”

He leads them into and along a series of large stone corridors lined with many detailed paintings with lively moving art inside and lit by flickering golden candlelight. The corridors twist and turn until they eventually branch off into a large atrium with a huge old door at the end. Standing in front of the door is Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, wearing her typical vibrant pear coloured robes, her hair in a tight bun and her stern eyes watching them trail in. Fern awkwardly waves a little, she gives him a short nod, and he carefully ignores the extremely close look Hermione is giving him.

Hagrid walks up to her, “Hullo Deputy Headmistress. I leave them in yur care.”

She gives a slight bow to him, “Thank You Hagrid, you can go ahead.”

He smiles and waves to the students, lumbering away down a neighbouring hall, Fern watching him go curiously.

_Nice guy. I wonder if he knows any secrets?_

He looks back ahead as McGonagall begins a short monologue.

“Welcome to Hogwarts.” She announces, “The start of term banquet will begin shortly and before you take your seats in the great hall, you will be sorted into one of the four Hogwarts Houses. The Houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin.” She says the final listed house with a slight frown, before continuing, “Each house has it's noble qualities, and each house has an hourglass for house points. For your good deeds you will gain house points and for misdemeanours, points will be deducted. The house with the most points at the end of the year will win the Hogwarts House Cup, a sacred prize.” There is excited muttering among the kids that is not shared by Fern, Draco and Hermione who again, simply ponder the nature of the system.

McGonagall continues, “Your Hogwarts house will be your home and your actions reflect on to them both good and ill. Very soon you will be led into the great hall where you will sorted in front of the rest of the student body. You have a few moments to straighten yourself out.” She hums, casting a scathing gaze on them.

 _Wow, no pressure or anything,_ Fern muses.

Neville is deathly pale and Fern looks at him.

“Ron says the sorting test is dangerous...” He whimpers.

Fern pats his shoulder, “Don't worry, it's probably not that bad....”

_At least I don't think so..._

McGonagall finally nods to them and turns towards the doors, tossing them open with a flick of her wand. They shuffle quietly into the huge grand hall, lined with five long tables, four vertical filled with students watching them, dressed in yellow, red, blue and green, and one horizontal head table decked with purple and gold, and lined with the teachers and staff. Looking up Fern sees the ceiling above is not solid stone, but fades away into a starry night sky that mimics the starscape outside.

Hermione sees him looking up and nudges close to him and Draco, “It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in _Hogwarts a History._ ”

Draco sniffs at her with concealed mirth “You actually read that dusty elephant of a book?”

She huffs at him, “Well, why not?! It has good info...”

Fern's attention wanders back down as they all settle to a stop, his line of sight resting on the head table and passing over varying strange teachers including a nervous looking sickly man in a purple turban, a very short man with a pointy goblin like nose, the friendly giant man Hagrid and a wizened old man sitting front and centre, exuding such a peaceful commanding aura that without a doubt he must be the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. Eyes wandering along the table Fern spies another familiar face, Professor Snape, with his long inky black hair and hooked nose, watching the first years file in with a blank sneer. His own stare meets Fern's, lingering for only a second before he dismissively looks away.

_Cold, but expected I guess._

Fern looks back in front of him and his eyes are drawn to a three legged stool with an old dusty pointed hat resting on the seat. McGonagall strides up to the stool and pulls out a scroll, waiting briefly as the hat shifts. One of its long stitched seams creaks and stretches as it opens like a mouth and its upper folds scrunch and knit together like a pair of unseen eyes. The hat sings aloud.

  
  


_To the H to the O the G, there ain't another hat like me._

_Take seat, put me on, and you'll see, in which house you ought to be._

_There's Gryffindor the brave and bold, they never do what their told._

_Ravenclaw the smart and wise, to the top, they claw and rise._

_Slytherin is the sly and class, power minded and cold like glass._

_Hufflepuff the loyal and kind, their all the ones left behind._

_So roll up, lemme whisper in your ear, and I'll tell you what you want to hear._

_W-A-R-T, and S, I ain't no part of an ordinary dress!_

  
  


The great hall erupts in thunderous applause, although some of the teachers glance at each other in vague confusion, and the hat bows gracefully to the tables all around before slouching back to observe the newcomers.

 _So the hat raps,_ Fern gives an impressed nod, _Go figure._

McGonagall flicks the long scroll open and carefully looks it over before speaking aloud.

“When I call you name step forward and the hat will sort you.” She glances at the list, “Abbott, Hannah.”

A round faced girl with bouncing blond pigtails races up enthusiastically and jumps on to the stool, McGonagall placing the floppy hat down on her head, it's brim sagging down on her face. The hat hums, mumbling a little before its mouth splits open wide.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” It calls enthusiastically.

McGonagall tugs the hat off Hannah's head by it's point, as she bounds off the stool and skips over to the yellow table, who applaud warmly as she settles in.

McGonagall continues down the list automatically, passing through the many names. Another petite girl, Susan Bones is also put into Hufflepuff. Lavender Brown lets out and earsplitting squeal of excitement as she is put into Gryffindor. A heavy set girl name Millicent Bulstrode is landed into Slytherin after some serious consideration. Vincent Crabbe is one of the boys Fern didn't really meet on the train, and he also ends up in Slytherin, but the consideration is not quiet as long. A boy with fluffy black hair named Michael Corner is one of the few put in Ravenclaw. Justin Finch-Fletchley has an air of dignity and smiles at the hat when he ends up in Hufflepuff. A boy with with an untidy uniform and wild swept hair named Seamus Finnigan is sorted to Gryffindor to excited cheering. Gregory Goyle, the other boy Fern didn't really meet on the train, follows his other bookend half into Slytherin.

McGonagall announces the next name, “Granger, Hermione.”

She strides past Fern purposefully, an air of formality as she sits down on the stool daintily, subtly wringing her hand in her lap.

The hat is placed on top of her voluminous hair and pauses for a short moment before shouting, “RAVENCLAW!”

She shoots up still wearing the hat, and McGonagall carefully snatches the hat from her head. She grins broadly at Draco and Fern as she marches to the blue table, who occupants applaud politely.

In another round pf names, a graceful girl with noble manners, Daphne Greengrass, is sorted into Slytherin.

McGonagall sighs, “Longbottom, Neville.”

Fern sees Neville stiffen in front of him and he carefully nudges him on his back to move him forward. He stumbles up to the stool and nearly misses sitting on it, visibly wincing as the hat is gently placed on his head. A prolonged silence settles around them as the hat rests on his head, leathery brow furrowed and stitched mouth pressed.

The hat finally nods and calls joyously, “HUFFLEPUFF!”

Neville jumps up and runs to the table, only to jog back to McGonagall when he realizes he is still wearing the sorting hat.

The reclaimed hat sorts more students, including a boy with sandy hair named Ernest Macmillan who is placed into Hufflepuff.

“Malfoy, Draco.” McGonagall purses her lips a little.

Draco looks to Fern with an air of smug and swaggers up to the stool with the utmost confidence, sitting down smoothly.

McGonagall goes to put that hat down on his head, and it doesn't even touch his hair before yelping, “SLYTHERIN!”

Draco stands and dusts off his robes as he strolls off to the green table, which applaud loudly. Fern is too busy flashing him a thumbs up, and glancing back forward he realize the name being called, Leanne McKell, now in Hufflepuff, is past his name in the alphabetical order.

_Uh oh. Maybe the name change didn't go through?_

He feels himself tense by a fraction as the worry in his system coils to life like icy roots in his stomach and he urges himself to remain calm. A small shallow skinned boy named Theodore Nott and the girl from the train he didn't really meet, Pansy Parkinson, were both sorted into Slytherin. Twins Padma and Parvati Patil were separated into Ravenclaw and Gryffindor respectively, the two separating with a forlorn look. The names are growing closer and closer to the PO section, and any minute now he's expecting McGonagall to accidentally call out his unfortunate hidden identity. He holds his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

_Brace for impact. Perhaps I should refuse to go up if they call my other name? No, I've already come so far. I'll just have to bear it when it comes._

And yet it never does. Fern watches on with mounting confusion and slight relief as the names continue past the Ps and into the letters after. A tall boy named Zacharias Smith is sorted in to Hufflepuff and smirks with a look that could rival Draco. An easygoing boy named Dean Thomas and Ron Weasley are both sorted to Gryffindor, the latter to the ruckus cheering of his twin brothers, and polite applause of his eldest sibling. Several names later, the last boy besides Fern, a taller critical eyed boy named Blaise Zabini is sorted into Slytherin, and an awkward silence descends on the hall as Fern is the last kid standing to be sorted. McGonagall stares at him for a prolonged moment and then frowns at the parchment in front of her with concealed concern. Fern is strategically calm outwardly, although he begins screaming internally as McGonagall scans the name list closely.

 _They forgot me!? No, Stay Calm. You can deal with this._ He reassures himself.

Despite his inner mantra he is greatly anxious about where things may have gone wrong. He is already planning a five step program for convincing his mothers to come pick him up and then move their whole family dynamic to the Canadian North. He will execute his plan once he stops feeling frozen in place. Still off in his head, he watches as McGonagall flips over the name scroll and nods with a small, affirmative huff at the only name scrolled on the back.

“McJones, Fern.” She sighs with a air of slight relief.

Fern feels a warm wash of ease for the averted crisis, before he feels all the eyes in the room settle on him in a subtle, uneasy pressure.

S _o much for not standing out,_ He groans internally.

He swallows hard and lets out a breath to expel his icy worry and get himself to move forward. He quickly and casually strolls up to the stool, and slips on to it's seat, swinging his legs a little as McGonagall gently lowers the hat on his head. It settles over his eyes and in the dusty darkness of the hat, a voice rings out in his head.

 _Ah! Harry Potter. Or is it Fern McJones?_ Hums an old, creaking voice, worn with age and disuse.

 _It's Fern McJones, Please._ He answers automatically.

The hat hums curiously, _I see. You've some guts, but I'm sensing even more determination. I'm thinking Slytherin..._

Fern only lets the hat muse a short moment before something occurs to him.

 _This is kind of silly..._ He sighs, mostly to himself, but his thought echos aloud.

The hat stops mulling and addresses him with an amused, _How so?_

Fern recovers with slight embarrassment and extrapolates on the spot.

_Well, I mean everyone has the capacity to be smart, brave, determined and whatever Hufflepuff is. It seems weird to pigeon hole a bunch of children on one specific personality trait that probably won't last as they become an adult._

A prolonged quiet settles and Fern worries he's lost the hat before it suddenly answers with a note of mirth.

_...Wanna hear a secret?_

Fern doesn't pause.

_Please._

_I don't pick anything,_ It responds instantly.

Fern absorbs this with a mental head shake _...What?_

The hat's chortle echos around him, _I don't really pick where people go. Of course I offer suggestions, usually based on their family history, or where I think they'll make friends easier, but all they have to do is suggest a house they would prefer and I give it to them._

_Huh._

_Yeah. The house traits? The sorting? There isn't really rules or some cosmic fate to it. Just vague guidelines. Every child has the capacity to be in every house. I just make suggestions and hear them out._

Fern sighs, relaxing a little more in the seat, _Well shoot, I was worried for nothing. How do you think I would fare in each houses?_

_Gryffindor would idolize your penchant for trouble, while Ravenclaw would admire your hard learned skill and love to learn, Slytherin would be a tough run, but you have a powerful friend there, and I have no doubt you would make great changes, while Hufflepuff is the perfect place to blend in, but there is no guarantee you'll feel challenged._

Fern thinks it over his, thoughts carefully concealed back behind his glass walls, and he thinks aloud again when he is ready.

_Hmmm. I propose a different way to see things._

_Please enlighten me._ The hat urges, not saying a word about the his hastily adapted Occulds.

_In Hufflepuff, they will latch on to me as one of there own. I will inherently not stand out, so if trouble arises I am less likely to be suspected and also less likely to be remembered if I am caught. I will be expected to be unexceptional, so any skills I show will be greatly rewarded and my diligence will be seen as exceptional all in itself. I can make differences to the world at large in ways that seem small and inconsequential at first but could mean things to others, so I can do great things, while my name remains hidden._

_Well, you're not wrong. So is Hufflepuff what you want to choose? Is to be unseen your future path?_

Fern nods to no one in particular as he ruminates on an idea not quiet formulated as it finally takes solid grasp.

_Let me be real with you. I plan to gut these ridiculous old systems and ideas with my bare hands, and I will do It while remaining a nobody the whole time._

The hat erupts into joyous thunderous laughter, leaning back and nearly falling off Fern's head as he quickly grabs it's brim so it doesn't tumble away as it chortles heartily.

_You are a curious one! Well remember...less rules, more guidelines..._

The hat manages to huff and sigh itself into form enough to speak clearly.

“H-HUFFLEPUFF!” It gasps before collapsing back into irresistible giggles.

Fern carefully removes the hat from his head and hands it to a stunned McGonagall before he slides off the stool, and marches over to the Hufflepuff table, who are unsure weather to applaud politely or cheer wildly. He glances over at the Slytherin table, where Draco is watching on in shock, and Fern makes sure to smile at him ruefully. Fern settles down between Neville, who looks white as a ghost, and an older boy with smoothly ruffled dark brown hair, clear blue eyes and sharp features.

“Welcome to Hufflepuff McJones.” The older boy says with a dashing smile, “You put in quiet a show.”

Fern shifts and eases his subtle nervousness with a lopsided grin, “It wasn't on purpose, but thanks, uh...”

He pauses, and the other boy quickly fills in as he offers his hand, “Sorry, Cedric Diggory, Third Year. I can introduce you to the Prefects if you want, I'm pretty familiar with almost all of Hufflepuff.

Fern shakes his hand firmly, “Thanks, I'd really like that.”

Silence falls as Headmaster Dumbledore smoothly rises from his seat and holds up his hand to call attention. Fern shifts forward a little to watch him, taking in the tall brightly dressed man, his robes a gold and purple to match the table cloth and long light grey beard and hair cascading around his face like a halo.

He smiles warmly, “Welcome to a new year of Hogwarts! Before the beginning of year feast begins, I have a few words; Dasher, Oobleck, Gorgeous. Thank you, the feast may begin.

As Dumbledore sits, food appears on all the tables. Piled on great gold plates is nearly every food imaginable, from applesauce to zucchini sticks, and everything in between. The hall swiftly returns to normal conversation and Fern wrinkles his nose, looking around at everyone's reaction, before he is distracted by Neville looking through the table with a haunted, thousand yard stare.

Fern carefully bumps there shoulders to rouse his attention, “You okay Neville?”

“Gran is going to kill me....” He murmurs, looking ill.

Fern pats his arm sympathetically, although he doesn't know much about the situation.

“Don't think about it. Here, eat something, focus on your new friends.” He drags a plate of samosas towards them to start the distraction.

Neville looks at him with his eyes wide and faintly asks, “Friends?”

“Why not?” Fern pauses and backpedals, “I mean, If you don't want to, I completely-”

Neville yelps, “No! I mean I...” He drops his voice worriedly, “I'm just surprised you want to be friends with me...”

Fern smiles at him warmly, and offers a hand.

“Friends.”

Neville nods furiously and shakes his hand. Fern makes sure not to do the intimidating handshake technique Celeste taught him. The boy genuinely smiles at him, nervous and afraid to look him in the eye.

 _I will protect this boy with my life,_ Fern decides easily.

The older boy beside him leans over and passes a jug to them, “Hey you two try this. Pumpkin juice, it's fantastic.”

“Thanks Diggory.” Fern says as he carefully pours a cup for him and Neville.

“Cedric please.” He sighs shaking his head with a handsome grin.

Fern ignores his stomach fluttering, and pats Neville on the shoulder, “Then you better call me Fern and my friend here Neville.”

“H-Hi.” Neville gulps.

Cedric waves at him, “Hi there. You okay?”

Neville nods and lowers his face into his goblet, “Jus' Nervous...”

“Hey that's okay. I was nervous at first as well, but don't you worry, I'll always be nearby.”

_Well, I guess my assumptions were sound. The Hufflepuffs are pretty chill._

His thoughts are interrupted by the girl with the pigtails leaning across the table at him.

“Hey!” She chirps brightly.

“Hi!” He responds with similar enthusiasm.

She tilts her head cutely, “Hannah Abbott. You're cute.”

He pats his wild hair sheepishly, “Oh thanks?! I like your pigtails.”

She shakes her head so her pigtails bounce, “Thanks! I can't believe I am finally at Hogwarts! I'm so excited!”

The smaller girl beside her jumps in, “Me too! Auntie is going to be so proud of me.” She pats her long plait over her shoulder and nods shortly, “Susan Bones by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.” Fern nods back easily, “Your aunt works at the ministry right?”

She straightens her back proudly, “She's Head of the Magical Law Enforcement.”

Fern nods as his though fills in, _Oh Ma is going to love this..._

The boy with sandy hair leans in from down the table, “Wow! So she's head of the Aurors right? She must be tough as nails!”

Susan narrows her eyes at him, “She's not mean! She's firm but fair.”

He shrinks away and smiles sheepishly, “Sorry for jumping in. It's Ernie Macmillan, yea?”

Fern waves at him, “Not at all, its nice to meet you.”

“Yeah it's fine! I like your hair!” Hannah wriggles in her seat and smiles at him brightly. The girl just couldn't seem to sits still.

“Thanks I grew it myself.” Ernie responds with no awareness.

“Justin Finch-Fletchley.” The boy with the carefully groomed black hair beside Ernie interrupts eagerly, “This whole thing was quiet a shock to my family. Non-magical and all.”

“Cool! I met another girl with a similar story, she's in Ravenclaw.” Fern leans back to try and spot Hermione, spying her talking animatedly to a intimidated looking Michael Corner.

Justin huffs thoughtfully, “Maybe we should start a club...”

Fern looks back at him, “Not a bad idea, but maybe leave it open to everyone.”

“Wouldn't that defeat the purpose?”

He sighs and waves his hand nonchalantly. “Differing in home experience could be useful. Help all around.”

“I'll think about it.” He says hesitantly, relaxing a little.

Fern spies a girl with long mousy hair who is staring at them fiercely, but had yet to speak.

“...And who are you?” He asks warmly.

She stares at him carefully, before answering bluntly, “Leanne...”

“Nice to meet you!” He responds instantly and she jerks her chin to him in response, before letting her gaze trail off.

They talk on and off about the food, Neville finally eating something and Fern relaxing as he gets to know his peers. It is quite suddenly that a pale head pokes up through the nearby plate of bacon.

“Hello There!” Comes the jolly cry of a overweight and notoriously jovial looking man with a bald spot.

Neville squeaks in surprise and promptly spills pumpkin juice on himself as the man floats out of the table.

“Oh sorry, son!” He chortles lowly waving his arms to placate him.

“Whoa, a ghost!” Cors a first year somewhere from their table as a few more pale figures float into the great hall.

The merry ghost waves his summoned spectral beer tankard in the air and bows to them, “I'm the Fat Friar, It's a pleasure to meet you all!”

“He's our House Ghost.” Cedric offers waving his fork at him.

The Friar beams with pride. “Used to be in Hufflepuff back in my day!”

“You joined the church after?” Fern asks innocently.

The Friar's demeanour becomes a little sheepish, “That I did! Shame the church wasn't to keen on my healing magic.”

_Yeah, figures the Catholics would not be enthused by witchcraft._

Another ghost with a frilly set of tunic and tights hovers over to there table.

He nods to the Friar warmly, “Hello Friar.”

Ernie nearly chokes on his drink as he blurts out, “Your Nearly Headless Nick!”

“Yes! Yes I am...” The ghost responds sharply, repressing a slight distaste and bowing to them politely instead, “Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service.”

Fern wonders if there is a formal introduction for greeting a knight, but decides against it.

“Hello Sir Nicolas.” He says up to him, eliciting a smile from the ghost.

“Why are you nearly headless?” Asks Justin bluntly.

Sir Nick lets out an audible sigh, before reaching up and tugging lightly on his hair. His head lops forward and to the side, revealing a grisly serrated stump for his neck, and his noggin hanging on for dear life by a thin strip of strained flesh.

Fern lets out a low whistle and a wince as Hannah asks, “Does it ever itch?”

“All the time.” Sir Nick huffs with concealed agitation.

Fern wonders how he might die.

_Normally I would say household accident but now it might be more likely to say wizard blood supremacists._

Fern abandons that depressing train of thought.

“Are their other ghosts?” He asks in hopes of changing the conversation.

Friar looks away from helping Nick plop his head back into place, “Well there is the Grey Lady for Ravenclaw.”

At the Ravenclaw table floats a beautiful woman with hollow eyes and a sad graceful form, reminiscent of tragedy.

“I don't see the Bloody Baron.” Muses Nick, glancing around with his crooked head.

Friar pats Nick's head down, and sighs with worry, “He'll show. Poor lad always does.”

“Are there any other ghosts?” Justin asks at the same time as Ernie asks “Is it fun?”

“I wouldn't say it's fun per say.” Nick groans forlorn.

Friar chuckles and slaps his back with a fond look, causing Nicks head to wobble a little, “Oh Nick, it's plenty of fun.”

Nick hums and moves on, “There are quiet a few ghosts around, but in Hogwarts the two you'll see more often than not are Professor Binns, who teaches History of Magic and-”

The air is filled with wild cackling high pitched laughter as several candelabras rattle and a nearby roast chicken explodes, sending several Hufflepuffs yelping and ducking for cover. Fern shifts back in surprise and Nick grimaces, clenching his fist.

“Peeves!” He hisses.

Friar floats over and makes a shooing motion by the desecrated chicken as the plate rattles, “Oh Peeves, please, there's no need to cause trouble.”

“Kekekeh!” Shrieks another laugh as a lanky spectre with a twisted stretched grin tumbles out of the plate and into the air, much to the frantic amusement and worry of nearby students.

He howls in a high scratchy voice, “Look at the snotty little firsties! I just have to give them a warm welcome.”

Cedric and Fern pull themselves and several nearby students under the tablecloth as Peeves lunges into a nearby ham, and it pop up above with a clownish bang. They peak out to see several teachers standing by as Headmaster Dumbledore waves at Peeves, now looping around overhead and cackling wildly.

The Headmaster sighs with mirth, although his attitude is calm and controlled, “Peeves my boy, that is quiet enough.”

Peeves slithers around in the air and pauses to chatter at the Headmaster, “Kekekeh! You don't scare me old man.”

Dumbledore smiles easy and there is a wicked twinkle in his eyes, “But I know someone who does.”

The doors blow open with tremendous force and all the candle light flickers in fright as a terrifying ghost thunders into the great hall.

“PEEVES!” Roars the booming voice, belonging to a frightening spectre of a noble man, curly hair fluttering wild, eyes mad with fury and robes drenched in vivid shocking blood.

Peeves screeches in surprise, “Yipes!!”

The Bloody Baron dashes up to Peeves swiping his long rapier wildly and Peeves yips and scrambles away, rocketing out the great hall with the Baron slashing viciously at his tail, leaving the Great hall peaceful once more.

“Egad, what a mess.” Nick tuts at the exploded meats as Fern helps Neville back into his seat.

_Well, I didn't freeze up at least._

“I do hope that boy comes around.” Sighs the Friar watching after the gruesome chase.

Nick's head tilts as he shakes it fondly, “You're too nice.”

Headmaster Dumbledore meanwhile is motioning the teachers to relax and muses aloud, “Probably time for dessert”

With but the Headmaster's word, the tables are quickly wiped clean and than restocked with dishes of numerous kinds of desserts.

Fern serves himself a slice of cherry pie as the excitement dies down and Cedric speak up while nibbling on a waffle.

“So the Prefects? The only really important ones are Gabriel” He points at an older boy with carefully cropped brown hair and a warm smile at the far end of the table, listening patiently to a endlessly talking boy with oddly combed blond hair, who Fern remembers as Smith something, “and Charlotte.” Cedric points to the other end of the table to a girl with flat coppery yellow hair and a ruler straight back, who is muttering to Leanne over the disruptions, “Our other prefects are chill enough that you'll never get in trouble with them.”

Fern hums around his spoon, “The first two will get me in trouble?”

Cedric laughs merrily and rolls his eyes, “Gabriel is a swell guy, and is pretty lenient, but he cares enough to follow through on the rules if he sees fit. Charlotte on the other hand is a stickler for the law and no one escapes her judgment.” He leans in close and smirks, “And never call her Charlie.”

“Speaking from experience?” Fern chuckles.

Cedric laughs a little harder and looks off to the side guiltily.

“Hey you!” Shouts a demanding voice.

Fern doesn't respond at first, not realizing its him they are talking to, but he looks around to see Smith something waving at him furiously.

“Yeah?” He calls back.

Smith looks at him down his nose, “Why were you at the end of the list?”

“I was enrolled late.” Fern calls back slowly, curious as to where the conversation is going.

The boys face scrunches in suspicion, “Why? Did your parents not want to send you to Hogwarts?”

Fern shakes his head, “Well no, they were just worried about some details, like costs and stuff.”

“You couldn't afford it?” Smith snorts.

“I can! That's why I'm here.” Fern chuckles and tilts his head incredulously.

The boy seems to narrow his eyes at Fern even further, before looking away abruptly. Fern's brow knits as he glances back at his nearby conversation partners, who can only shrug in response. The hall begins to quiet as Dumbledore stands again and waves his hand, the tables clearing.

He looks down on them with a warm grandfatherly smile. “Just a few words before your all led off to bed.” He hums, his firm but soft voice booming loudly and easily, “First years should note that the Forbidden Forest on the school ground is, in fact, Forbidden to all students. This includes older students as well...” His gaze simmers over to the Gryffindor's table and specifically the Weasley twins, before returning to the hall at large, “I have also been asked by Mr. Filch,” Dumbledore directs their attention to the back of the hall, to a crotchety and scruffy looking older man leaning against the great hall doors, a fluffy patchy cat with large yellow eyes nestled in his arms, “That using magic in the corridors between class should be kept to a minimum. Quidditch trials are to be held at the Quidditch pitch on the second week of term, if you wish to play for your house, and are not a first year.” He looks over his wiry spectacles at the Slytherin table, shooting a twinkling look at Draco, who skilfully ignores him, “Please contact Madam Hooch.” He points along the head table to a woman sitting near him, who has a sharp nose, silver pixie cut hair and hawk like eyes, “and finally, I would like to warn all of you that the third floor corridor on the right hand side, is now strictly out of bounds for the school year.” His tone turns oddly serious, but his eyes still sparkle “I would not suggest going near there unless someone wishes to land themselves in very...” His gaze sweeps over to the Hufflepuff table and Fern's breath catches as the Headmaster's icy blue eyes meet his, “Dangerous trouble.”

In a moment Fern experiences a familiar feeling, a mental prod into his mind and up to his carefully solidified glass walls. He huffs in annoyance and carefully shoves the intrusion back, it wilfully retreating almost as fast as it appeared.

Dumbledore hums and glances away, smiling a little wider, “Hmm. Well that seems to be everything.” His attitude turns jovial again and he pulls out his wand swishing it like a conductor, “Now before we turn in, lets sing the Hogwarts Anthem.”

Fern blinks and looks away from staring at Dumbledore as the student body shuffles to stand.

_More mind reading. I need to make my wards better._

“There's an anthem?” Asks Neville as he stumbles up.

Cedric shrugs at them “Not that I know of...”

Fern stops Neville from tripping over and watches as Headmaster Dumbledore sweeps large golden letters into the air, and a soft familiar tune plays from an unseen source.

“Everybody pick a tune and follow along!”

Fern nods and watches the words form in the air and the students sing them in an uneven clamour of noise.

  
  


_We're no strangers to love. You know the rules and so do I._

_A full commitments what I'm thinkin' of._

_You wouldn't get this from any other guy._

  
  


Fern pauses, _Wait a tick, this sounds really familiar...._

  
  


_I just want to tell you how I'm feelin'. Gotta make you, understand._

_Never gonna give you up, Never gonna let you down._

_Never gonna run around and, desert you._

Fern looks around incredulously, _Hey, yeah this is...What the hell?_

  
  


_Never gonna make your cry, Never gonna say goodbye._

_Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you._

  
  


Dumbledore flicks his wand to finish the song and dispels the words with a whizz and a bang, the student body whooping and hollering in celebration. Fern looks around a little confused, but eventually comes to terms with it.

_I guess not a lot of wizards know who Rick Astley is..._

Fern glances up at the head table as the cheering dies down and the Prefects start rounding the students up. He witnesses more confused stares from the teachers and staff, except Professor Snape who has his head buried in a disgruntled face palm.

“McJones!”

Fern turns around to his name being called and jogs up to the line of first years crowding around Gabriel. He smiles sheepishly at Gabriel who nods at him with a cool grin, before leading them away out of the great hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh Gotcha.  
> You do not realize how much I had to resist using the term "was yeeted into Hufflepuff."


	13. A Hufflepuff's Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fern integrates into Hufflepuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is Welcome!

“Hufflepuffs don't really have a notable wrap.” Gabriel starts without any buildup as he leads the conga line of students down the twisting stone corridors. “No one even knows what our house trait is. It's being kind and loyal by the way. Helping everyone and anyone, being true to your friends.” He gives them a thumbs up as they pass into a huge stairwell, the grinding of stone sounding overhead as some of the staircases shimmy and shift about.

He continues as he leads them down a basement stairway, “We aren't really expected to do much, no one can even remember the last time we won the house cup.” He trails off a little before suddenly speaking up again, “But we have a lot of famous Hufflepuffs! Hengist of Woodcroft founded the nearby all wizard village of Hogsmead! Artemisia Lufkin, was the Minister of Magic that established the DIMC.”

“The what?” Whispers Justin.

“The Department of International Magical Cooperation.” Fern whispers back.

Gabriel continues in animation, “Bridget Wenlock discovered the magical property of the number seven ,Gorgan Stump was the first Minister of Magic that gave rights rights to creatures, people with creature blood and spirits, Theseus Scamander, was Head of the Auror Office in 1927...uh...” Gabriel pauses thinking hard and Charlotte takes over.

“You forgot his son, Newton Scamander the Creature Researcher. He wrote one of the text book, you'll be using at Hogwarts.” She adds with a slight air of studiousness.

Gabriel recovers enough to talk again, “We have hidden strengths you know! So word to the wise....” He pumps his fist, “Don't underestimate us!”

Charlotte doesn't share his enthusiasms as they round the corner to a long corridor of food themed paintings.

“Keep your eyes out.” She slows them as they pass by a painting of an elaborate fruit bowl, “This is the Kitchen. You just have to tickle the pear to get inside.”

Fern pipes up, “Who cooks in the castle?”

“House elves.” Gabriel hums oddly “Visit them sometimes. Just...” He winces, “Never, ever try to give them clothes.”

Fern ruminates on this.

_Hm. I should send a letter to Mum, she mentioned house elves in her new creature group._

“We're Here!” Announces Gabriel as they walk over to a shadowy dead end near the kitchen.

The wall is piled high with large wooden barrels, easily big enough that Fern could live in one like a giant nest. They all have lids and taps on them but other than that they seem completely ordinary.

Gabriel hums with excitement, “Now, Watch closely.”

He steps forward to the barrels and carefully counts them, two from the bottom, and the middle in the second row. He smiles at them and carefully raps on the barrels lip.

Knock Knock...Knock Knock Knock.

_Helga Hufflepuff._

Their is a soft creak as the barrels lid swings open and reveals a long dimly lit tunnel with a warm orange glow at the end. Gabriel poses theatrically at the opening and Charlotte looks at them with a very serious look.

“Tapping the wrong barrel, or the wrong rhythm, will result in one of the other barrels dousing you in vinegar.” She frowns bluntly.

 _Dully noted_ Fern nods to himself and Neville lets out a small whimper

Gabriel quickly placates them, as they are ushered into the long wood panelled tunnel, following the brown cobblestone floor leading them further and further until they finally step out into a large round room. It is awash in the light of a round roaring fireplace, and countless brass lanterns, hung on the walls and low ceiling, casting a comfy welcoming glow around the dark carpeted common room. The room is heavily scattered with many throw pillows, beanbag chairs, long loaf sofas tossed with quilted fuzzy blankets and always close by were low level end tables, made out of repurposed tree stumps, logs and flower pallets. Fern gazes around eagerly at the great number of plant arrangements, countless reaching little arrowhead vines curling out of their hanging baskets, many tall trees leaning about in colourful brass pots, and many assortments of flowers that hummed and hawed from there box planters.

He soaks in the pleasant smell of lavender and basil, thinking _This is such a cozy location, it reminds me of home..._

From one of the round wood portholes in the wall emerges a stout and strong woman with fluffy grey hair like a cloud and wearing a well worn brown smock dress.

“Ah, there you all are!” She calls happily her dimples rosy and her eyes dancing.

She grins and waves them around her, the older students waiting back while the first years crowd forward.

She claps her gloved hands together, “I am Professor Pomona Sprout! I teach Herbology to all years at Hogwarts and I am your Head of House!” She looks them over with a warm nod and settles her self into a nice sofa, the students dropping down on to the throw pillows nearby, “Goodness we have quiet a few new faces this year! Now.” She leans forward, “I'm sure you were all told about the House Cup.” She watches as they nod and murmur and she nods in turn, “I suppose, you also heard we haven't won the House Cup in years.” There is a more quiet affirmative mumbling around and she nods again, before speaking loudly and clearly, “Well I'm telling you that the House Cup, is not important to us.” She lets the gathered kids gasp in response before she leans back and continues, “A trophy is no goal for a True Spirited Hufflepuff! Our goals should always be first and foremost; be true to yourself, be true to friends, put your best foot forward, and help everyone and anyone. No matter their creed, year or house, we help everybody.” She lets them all mutter more in response and sighs a little, “Yes, yes I know many of you have not heard very good things about Slytherin House. But even they need help every once and a while. It wouldn't hurt to lend them a hand. Ah.” She lets out a mischievous hum and getting up, reaches behind the couch to pick up a small crooked little tree sitting in a swirly carved pot, “This is a brand new common room mate to celebrate our newcomers!”

Fern stares at the tree closely, _Hey, that's a-”_

“That's a Wiggentree!” Pipes Neville excitedly, “Touching the trunk protects you from dark creatures.”

She smiles broadly and motions him to stand up, “Very good my boy!”

Fern watches in awe as Neville get up shakily.

_Whoa he got it faster than I did?!_

Professor Sprout holds out the pot and Neville gently scoops it up in his arms, “Would you like to name it?”

He shifts the plant and hums nervously, “O-oh uh... Ash?”

She beams at him, “A wonderful name. Now lets place her somewhere.”

The Hufflepuff dorm quickly splits up to look around for a nice place to put Ash, the Wiggentree. Fern is patting the fireplace mantel down to try and find a flat spots and watches as Neville relaxes a little as he talks with Professor Sprout, still hugging the tree pot. He is distracted as Ernie bounds up to him.

“Hey Fern.” He grins shoving his straw like hair out if his face, “Are you rooming with anyone?”

Fern shrugs, “I was going to ask Neville.”

Justin appears by Ernie and leans on the mantel, “Perfect! Me and Ernie are rooming together and it's four to a room according to Gabriel.”

Fern looks back at Neville and notices Sprout being drawn away by Hannah, Susan and Leanne struggling with a friendly and hug happy vine.

Fern nods at them, “I still have to ask, but yeah totally!”

He jogs over to Neville as he places Ash down on a nice large round windowsill.

“Hey Neville.” He waves and motions to Ernie and Justin who are prodding at some giggling lilies, “Me, Ernie and Justin want you to room with us.”

He brightens, “Really??” He nods awkwardly and continues softly, “We'll okay... I mean, if it's alright.”

Fern waves at the others, “Itsa'll good!”

Ernie lets out a whoop and claps his arm on Justin's shoulder.

“We'll grab a room!” He calls, the two of them dashing off into the male dormitory porthole.

Fern turns back to Neville and points at Ash excitedly, “I didn't know you liked gardening! I have a greenhouse at home, my Mums would be proud if you came over to see it sometime.”

Neville seems to shrink a little under his praise, “Oh, uh, I don't-” He looks away, “My Gran isn't really fond of my hobby, she wouldn't really...” He trails off, looking small.

Fern feels a great dislike for this woman he has yet to meet. All he had seen and heard so far was a sweet boy being bullied by someone who should be looking out for him. He shakes his head to clear it.

_I haven't met her, I can't have an opinion yet. No matter._

He smiles at Neville wryly, “Then we'll just tell her your coming over for something else, like study hall or roughhousing.”

Neville looks up at him dumbfounded, “But that'd be lying!”

Fern shakes his head in emphasis, “Not really. I mean you could come over with the intention that we are going to do one thing, but because of,” He considers dramatically, “The weather, construction in the area, or me being grounded, we instead just happen to end up in the greenhouse to pass the time.” He finishes with an easy shrug.

Neville's brow furrows as he wrings his hands, “...So it's not lying then?”

Fern smiles a little wider, “Of course not.” He pats Neville on the back and steers him towards the porthole, “Let's go see if Ernie and Justin got us a room yet.”

They wander to the dormitory porthole, passing Cedric with a wave as they enter the long curved hallway of the boys dormitory, painted a calming green and lined with more round doors

“Justin? Ernie?” Fern calls aloud.

Justin's head pokes out of a nearby door and he beckons, “Come on! In here!”

Fern and Neville jog up to him and wander into a smaller circular room. There is four poster beds crowded together around a tree trunk shelf in the centre of the room, the place is warm with brass table lamps and wall lights, a yellow curved couch hugging the wall, a few stump end tables and many hanging ferns and reed plants in wicker baskets. There is also an oval door leading to a brown stone tiled bathroom.

“Hufflepuff is certainly dedicated to their theme.” Fern muses aloud.

“Call it!” Ernie cries as he dives into one of the beds tangling himself in the knitted badger print quilt. Justin drags his suitcase over to the bed by Ernie's and tosses it on to the bedspread. Fern glances around, tapping Neville's shoulder so they can fetch their trunks that had materialized in the hallway by the door.

 _Magic._ Fern huffs.

Fern lets Neville pick his bed first, before scooting his trunk against his new bed front, before tugging his cloak pocket open and peering inside.

“Shade, you can come out.”

Shade pokes his head out cautiously, before fully coiling out on the nearby bed hissing anxiously.

“F-Fern....”

Fern squats down and strokes his head to calm his hissing, “What? What's wrong?”

“I-I reared my head out when we were shifted by the laughing hat...someone saw me....”

Fern groans a little, “Shoot. Who was it?”

Shade pauses and thinks carefully, “Black Hair, Black Eyes, White Skin, Large Nose....”

_There is only one person I know that fits that description._

Fern quietly rubs his forehead, vexed, “Oh god, are you sure?”

Shade sighs forlorn, “We made eye contact. He glared at me....”

Fern curses in snake speak, “It's fine. I will deal with it. You're alright.”

Shade droops his head, “Sowwy...”

“Um Fern?” Asks Justin worriedly.

“Yeah?” He responds casually.

Ernie is staring at him from under his bed quilt, “Are you hissing at your snake?”

Fern pauses, “Oh right. I'm Parseltounge.” He sits by Shade and strokes along his neck, “This is Shade by the way, my python.”

“Hullo.” Shade gruffs.

Ernie nearly falls off his bed, “Your snake talks?”

Fern shrugs “I hone my skills in snake, and he learns English.”

Justin frowns, “That's weird.”

“Don't be a sucker.” Shade sticks his tongue out at him.

“H-Hey.” Justin retorts weakly.

“Silly boy.” Shade coos.

“Stop.” Justin winces.

“Dumb head.” Shade wiggles as he taunts.

“Shade, relax.” Fern sighs, scritching his head as he settles down hissing, “Are you ok Neville? He's really a big sortie, you want to pet him?”

Neville hadn't moved since Shade had appeared and he starts at being addressed, “O-oh u-um...” He shifts uncomfortably.

Fern stills his hand, “Shade. Pats?”

Shade hums thoughtfully, “If they insist.”

Fern gently scoops up Shade and offers him to his roommates. “Go on, he won't bite.”

Ernie untangles himself and wanders up, eyeing Shade before reaching out and carefully poking Shade's head. Shade snorts and presses his head forward to rub against Ernie's hand, eliciting an excited laugh from him.

“Whoa...”

Justin watches on critically, before bouncing up himself and striding over. He frowns at Shade as he holds out his hand and gently pats Shade's back. Shade chuckles and coils around and up on Justin's arm. He stiffens and then relaxes as Shade lazily slithered up on his shoulder.

“G-Geez, is this ok?”

“He won't do anything unwarranted.” Fern assures.

Neville scoots closer and blinks a little as he carefully picks Trevor out of his pocket.

“Um, he won't eat Trevor will he?” He asks lowly.

“I'll warn him.” Fern nods and looks to Shade as he slides off Justin and back to Fern arms.

“Shade.” He points to the toad. “This is Trevor. Please don't eat others pets.”

Shade leers forward to get a closer look.

He turns to Fern, “This is not up for debate?”

Fern presses his lips together, “It is not.”

Shade huffs, “Then you have my word.” He looks back to Neville and clicks in English, “Pet me.”

Neville waffles until Fern gently takes Trevor from him and Shade slides up into Neville's arms. Neville cradles him awkwardly at first, but he shifts his grasp a little and once comfortable, gingerly starts petting Shade's neck, who purrs in response.

“Is that a Snake?!” Shouts an abrasive voice from the door, and Fern turns to see the boy from before, Smith something, looking at Shade with a scrunched look, “Ugh! What are you Slytherin?”

Fern wrinkles his nose at him, “There is nothing wrong with being Slytherin.”

The boy tsks, “Then why are you here?”

“Did you see the common room?” Fern asks dramatically, “I could sleep anywhere in this place.”

Justin and Ernie snort in amusement.

Smith shoots a frown at them before glaring at Fern, “So your not really a Hufflepuff then.”

Fern sighs and calms, “I definitely am.” He waves around, “The hat sorted me didn't it?”

Smith narrows his eyes, “It was probably a fluke.”

Fern thinks bout it, and decides against telling the hat's secret.

He chooses a different route, saying, “Isn't the hat a magical item? What makes you think it can make mistakes? It sorted you didn't it?”

“My position here was set from the start.” Smith straightens his posture and puffs out his chest. “My ancestor was Helga Hufflepuff.”

Fern doesn't act too intrigued, “Really? The bloodline books said she never had kids...”

“I am!” He snaps, continuing hotly, “Hepizibah Smith my families great grand aunt once removed was distantly related to Helga Hufflepuff.”

Fern feels a simmer of recognition, “...Ok? I mean I can't speak for the validity of that.” Fern finally remembers his name, “Oh, It's Zach right?”

The hiss he shoots at Fern is scathing, “Absolutely Not! Do you realize who I am? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the pre-course test and I've been informed about numerous secrets about Hogwarts, and I know easily over 300 spells. I am trained in...”

Fern zones out as Smith rambles on.

_Well that's not good. I should let him blow off some steam._

Smith finally finishes with a, “So cross me and you're dead, okay?”

Ernie looks up from dumping his clothes out on his bed, “There was a pre-course test? Why didn't I hear about it?”

Smith sniffs, “Because you aren't important. Uh, who are you?”

He waves and laughs, “Oh, hi I'm, Ernie Macmillan.”

Smith physically freezes before vaguely saying, “Oh.” and carefully backing away from the door, disappearing down the hall.

“What was that about?” Justin hums.

Ernie starts stuffing his clothes in the tree shelves over his bed, “I guess he was intimidated by my name...”

Justin looks around at him, “Why?”

Fern shrugs nonchalantly, “Macmillan is one of the sacred 28 wizarding families.”

Justin tilts his head surprise, “Really?! My family are noble as well, non magical of course...” He smiles proudly.

Neville pipes a little, careful not to shift Shade in his arms, “O-oh, uh, my name, is on of the sacred too...”

“Huh, weird luck.” Ernie laughs.

“What about you Fern?” Justin asks smoothly.

Fern thinks about the look in his Ma's eyes when she enters the zone, and the Potter accounts lurking in Gringotts bank.

“Just McJones.” He says fondly. “Nothing really special.” He glances at his snake still nestled in Neville's arms.

Fern chuckles at Shade as he lets out a soft rumbly snake snore.

“Aw, he likes you Neville.” Fern places Neville's toad onto his bed and carefully lifts Shade off of him, lightly dumping the snake on to his own bed, “Anyway we better turn in soon. We have a big day tomorrow.”

Fern says this while popping open his trunk and pulling out his music player from the small enclosed space, clunkily slapping it on his bed side table. He also retrieves Spiny in her on-the-go enchanted carrier, placing her down nearby the music player, not close enough that he might get a handful of nettles when trying to snooze the alarm on his nightstand clock, which he realizes he left in the larger trunk compartment. He lifts the lid off Spiny's box, and she blinks awake in the rooms bright lights, looking around with a small sound.

“Nyah?”

Fern's eyebrows shoot up.

_She did not make noise before._

He's distracted by the clamouring of his roommates.

“What is that?” Ernie laughs pointing at the music player.

“And what is that?” Justin half scoffs half chuckles at Spiny, who begins to dance.

He points at his brick like music contraption, “This is a muggle music player fixed to play in even magic locations.” He holds out his hand to present his plant, “This is a catus, named Spiny.” He sees Neville hovering nearby, “You can hold it if you want Neville, just be careful with her spines, and teeth, they are deceptively sharp.”

They didn't end up getting a lot of sleep, as they spent almost all night fooling around with magic and muggle items as they set up their Hufflepuff lair.


End file.
